Chapter 9: The Night My Mother Died
My father didn't deny it.
That was the first thing I noticed.
He didn't ask who had sent the message.
He didn't accuse anyone of lying.
He simply stared at the screen as though the words had dragged him back to a place he had spent seven years trying to forget.
"Why did you change the locks?"" I asked.
He rubbed his palms against his trousers.
"Emily, please.""
"No. I want an answer.""
Margaret remained silent, watching him carefully.
Dad finally spoke.
"Your mother had documents in her bedroom. Linda wanted to look through them.""
"That night?""
"Yes.""
"While Mom was dying?""
He closed his eyes.
"She had passed away earlier that evening.""
I felt my throat tighten.
I remembered that night.
I was seventeen.
I had been sitting beside Mom's hospital bed in our house, holding her hand while the oxygen machine made its steady mechanical sound.
Dad had told me to go downstairs and get some rest.
I had refused.
Then Linda appeared in the doorway.
"Emily, sweetheart, your father needs to speak with the doctor.""
"I want to stay with Mom.""
"Your father will be right back.""
She had taken my hand and led me into the hallway.
I remembered hearing Dad's voice.
Then a door closing.
Then silence.
When I returned, Mom was gone.
Dad had told me she passed peacefully while I was downstairs.
I had believed him.
Now I was beginning to wonder what else had happened in those missing minutes.
"Tell me everything," I said.
Dad looked at Margaret.
She nodded.
"Go on.""
He took a long breath.
"Your mother had been keeping a locked file cabinet in her bedroom. She told me not to let anyone open it without Margaret present.""
"Then why did Linda go inside?""
"She said she needed to find the insurance policy.""
"Why?""
"She wanted to know which documents needed to be sent to the insurance company.""
I stared at him.
"Before Mom was even buried?""
He nodded.
I felt sick.
"Did you let her?""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"She said she was helping.""
I shook my head.
"That's not an answer.""
Dad's eyes filled.
"Because I was scared. I didn't know what to do. Your mother was gone, and Linda kept telling me there were things that needed to be handled immediately.""
"Did you change the locks?""
He nodded.
"Why?""
"Linda said the documents needed to be protected.""
"Protected from whom?""
He looked directly at me.
"From you.""
The room seemed to stop.
"From me?""
"She said you were upset and might take something without understanding its importance.""
I stared at him.
"I was seventeen. My mother had just died. What exactly did you think I was going to steal?""
He started crying.
"I know.""
"No, you don't.""
I stood.
"I was looking for my mother's photograph, Dad. I was trying to keep the things she left behind. And you were changing locks because Linda didn't want me near her documents?""
He nodded.
I walked to the window.
For years, I had wondered why Mom's bedroom had been emptied so quickly.
Why her jewelry disappeared.
Why her personal papers were suddenly missing.
Why Dad refused to let me go through her belongings.
Now I understood.
They had taken control of the room before I could even grieve.
"Where are the documents now?"" Margaret asked.
Dad wiped his face.
"Some went to Robert. Some Linda kept. The rest were supposedly destroyed.""
"Supposedly?""
Dad hesitated.
"Linda told me she had shredded the old paperwork.""
I turned.
"Did you see her do it?""
"No.""
Margaret wrote something down.
"Daniel, we need to tell the investigating officer about this.""
He nodded.
Then he looked at me.
"There's something I never told you.""
I felt exhausted.
"What now?""
"Your mother knew Linda had been accessing the insurance information before she died. She confronted her.""
"When?""
"Three days before she passed.""
My heart pounded.
"What happened?""
"They argued in the kitchen. Your mother accused Linda of trying to change the beneficiary on the policy.""
"Was she?""
Dad nodded.
"Linda said the insurance company had made an error. She told Rebecca that if something happened to her, the money would need to be managed by the family.""
"Mom didn't agree.""
"No.""
"What did she do?""
"She called Margaret.""
I looked at Margaret.
She nodded slowly.
"Rebecca contacted me that day. She was worried that someone had obtained confidential policy information.""
"Did she say who?""
"She suspected Linda and Denise Walker.""
I closed my eyes.
My mother had known.
She had tried to protect me.
And somehow, even after she was gone, Linda had managed to reach the money.
Margaret picked up her phone.
"I'm going to request the archived correspondence from that week.""
She stepped into the hallway.
I sat down across from Dad.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then he said, "I want you to know that I loved your mother.""
I looked at him.
"Then why did you let this happen?""
"I thought I was protecting everyone.""
"You protected Linda.""
He nodded.
"And I failed you.""
I didn't answer.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small key.
"I found this in the garage last night.""
I stared at it.
"What is it?""
"Your mother's bedroom desk key.""
I took it.
"Why do you still have this?""
"Because I never threw it away.""
I looked at him.
"Where's the desk?""
"In storage. I kept it after we moved.""
"Did Linda know?""
He shook his head.
"She thought I had disposed of everything.""
I turned the key over in my palm.
"Then we're going to find it.""
The following morning, Dad and I drove to a storage facility on the outskirts of Columbus.
He had rented the unit under his name.
Inside were boxes of old household items, furniture, photographs, and several pieces of Mom's bedroom furniture.
The desk was pushed against the back wall.
It was a dark wooden writing desk with three drawers.
The middle drawer had a small brass lock.
My key fit.
Inside were old letters, a jewelry pouch, and a sealed envelope marked with my name.
*For Emily. Open only when you are ready.*
I recognized Mom's handwriting immediately.
My hands began shaking.
I opened the envelope.
There was a letter inside.
My sweet girl,
If you are reading this, something happened that I feared might happen.
I want you to know that I did everything I could to protect what belongs to you.
I also need you to understand that the people who hurt you may not be strangers. Sometimes the greatest betrayal comes from someone who knows exactly how much you trust them.
I stopped reading.
My eyes blurred.
Dad stood beside me.
I continued.
There is one thing I need you to ask your father.
When I was admitted to the hospital for the final time, I asked Daniel to bring the blue folder from my desk.
He told me he had given it to Margaret.
But Margaret later told me she never received it.
That folder contained the original evidence concerning Linda's access to my financial accounts.
If the folder is missing, ask Daniel what he did with it.
I lowered the letter.
Dad looked like he might collapse.
"What's in the blue folder?"" I asked.
He didn't speak.
"Where is it?""
He sat down on a storage box.
"Linda took it.""
"When?""
"The night your mother died.""
I stared at him.
"Why?""
"She said it contained private information that could damage her.""
"What kind of information?""
He looked at the floor.
"Records showing that she had been transferring money from your mother's personal account before Rebecca died.""
My stomach tightened.
"How much?""
"About forty thousand dollars.""
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"She stole from Mom while Mom was alive?""
Dad nodded.
"And Mom found out?""
"Yes.""
"That's why she confronted Linda?""
He nodded again.
I stepped away.
"Did Mom know you had given Linda the folder?""
Dad began crying.
"She asked me to bring it to her. Linda intercepted me in the hallway. She said Rebecca had already signed the documents and there was no reason to upset her.""
I felt anger rising so quickly that I struggled to breathe.
"You chose Linda over Mom.""
"I was trying to avoid another argument.""
"Your wife was dying!""
He covered his face.
"I know.""
I picked up the letter again.
There was a second sheet folded behind it.
At the top was a handwritten instruction.
If Daniel admits he gave Linda the blue folder, ask him to check the back of the original photograph in my bedroom. I left something there that cannot be changed or destroyed.
I looked at Dad.
"Do you still have the photograph of Mom from her bedroom?""
He shook his head.
"Linda took it.""
"Where is it?""
"I think she kept it in her office.""
I called Margaret.
She arranged for the investigating officer to document the letter and advise us on recovering the photograph and any remaining estate records.
But before we could make another move, Dad's phone rang.
Linda.
He answered on speaker.
"Where are you?"" she demanded.
"At the storage unit.""
There was a pause.
"With Emily?""
"Yes.""
Linda's voice became icy.
"Daniel, I know you've been talking to Margaret. I know you've been showing Emily documents.""
"Linda, it's over.""
She laughed.
"You really think so?""
"We're going to tell the truth.""
"Then you should know Robert has already spoken to his attorney.""
"What does that mean?""
"It means the house, the insurance money, and the investment account are not your daughter's biggest problems.""
I stepped closer to the phone.
"What are you talking about?""
Linda ignored me.
Then she said something that made Dad drop the phone.
"Rebecca didn't just discover the missing money, Daniel. She discovered what Robert had done with her medical records.""
I froze.
Dad picked up the phone.
"Linda, don't.""
But she continued.
"And if Emily wants to know why her mother died believing she had been betrayed by everyone, perhaps she should ask you what happened to the hospital's original report.""
The call disconnected.
I looked at Dad.
"What hospital report?""
He didn't answer.
I stepped toward him.
"Dad. What did Linda mean?""
His face crumpled.
May you like
Then he whispered:
"Your mother wasn't supposed to be discharged from the hospital that day.""
