Chapter 12: The Woman Who Was Supposed to Be Dead
Nobody moved.
My mother’s phone.
A phone that should have been destroyed years ago.
A phone that should have been buried with her memories.
A phone that was now sending me messages from the shadows.
My father looked shaken.
“Where is it?””
I asked.
He looked at me.
“Vivienne.””
“Where is it?””
His silence lasted too long.
Finally, he answered.
“At your old family house.””
The words hit me.
The house where my mother lived.
The house I had not visited since I was a teenager.
“Why is it there?””
My father looked away.
“I don’t know.””
Robert stepped forward.
“I do.””
Everyone turned.
He looked toward Eleanor.
“She kept it.””
Eleanor’s face changed.
“No.””
Robert continued.
“Your mother gave the phone to someone she trusted.””
My father looked confused.
“Who?””
Robert didn’t answer immediately.
Then he said:
“Someone inside the Whitmore family.””
Everyone looked at Chloe.
She shook her head.
“No.””
Robert looked past her.
Toward Eleanor.
The room became cold.
Eleanor laughed.
“You’re accusing me?””
Robert stared at her.
“Yes.””
She smiled.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.””
My father stepped forward.
“Eleanor.””
His voice was dangerous.
“What did you do?””
For the first time, she looked genuinely angry.
“You still think I’m the biggest threat?””
Everyone froze.
“What does that mean?”” I asked.
Eleanor looked at me.
And somehow, I hated that I believed she was about to tell the truth.
“Your mother wasn’t killed because of money.””
Silence.
“She was killed because she discovered who was behind everything.””
My father’s face went pale.
“Stop.””
“No.””
Eleanor looked at him.
“You buried the truth for years.””
She turned back to me.
“Now she deserves to know.””
My heart raced.
“Who?””
Eleanor smiled.
A slow, cruel smile.
“The person you trusted most.””
I looked around.
Daniel?
No.
He was already exposed.
My father?
No.
Not after everything.
Robert?
Impossible.
Then Eleanor said the name.
And the entire world seemed to stop.
“Your mother’s closest friend.””
I frowned.
“My mother’s friend?””
Eleanor nodded.
“The woman who comforted you after your mother died.””
A chill ran through me.
Because suddenly, a memory surfaced.
A woman holding my hand at the funeral.
A woman telling me everything would be okay.
A woman my father trusted.
A woman who disappeared from my life afterward.
“What was her name?””
Eleanor leaned closer.
“Rebecca.””
My breath stopped.
Rebecca Stone.
The woman I called Aunt Rebecca.
The woman who helped raise me after my mother died.
The woman who knew every secret in my family.
My father whispered:
“No.””
I turned toward him.
“You know her.””
He didn’t answer.
That was enough.
My phone buzzed again.
Another message.
This time, there was a photo.
I opened it.
And my hands went numb.
It was an old photograph.
My mother.
My father.
Rebecca.
And a fourth person.
Someone I had never seen before.
On the back of the photo was a handwritten sentence.
*The night your mother died, four people knew the truth.*
Then another message appeared.
*Three lied.*
A final message arrived.
*One survived.*
I looked at my father.
“Who is the fourth person?””
His face turned completely white.
Because he knew.
And the answer changed everything.
“The fourth person…”
May you like
My father whispered.
“…was me.””
