Chapter 13: The Night My Mother Disappeared
The ballroom had gone quiet again.
But this time, silence felt different.
Before, silence meant people were waiting for someone else to speak.
Now, silence meant everyone was afraid of what would be revealed.
I stared at my father.
“The fourth person was you?””
He looked down.
“Yes.””
My chest tightened.
“And you never told me?””
He swallowed.
“No.””
The answer hurt because it was simple.
No excuses.
No explanation.
Just no.
I stepped away from him.
“How many years?””
“Vivienne…”
“How many years did you let me believe my mother’s death was just an accident?””
His eyes filled.
“Twenty years.””
The number felt impossible.
Twenty years of birthdays.
Twenty years of holidays.
Twenty years of me wondering what my mother would think of the woman I became.
And all that time, my father had carried a secret.
Robert quietly spoke.
“Your father was not the only person who kept the truth hidden.””
I looked at him.
“Then tell me.””
He nodded.
“That night, your mother called three people.””
My father closed his eyes.
“Rebecca.””
“Yes.””
“Eleanor.””
Everyone looked at Eleanor.
“And me.””
I frowned.
“Why you?””
Robert looked at me.
“Because your mother knew she might not survive what she discovered.””
The room felt colder.
“She prepared.””
He opened the folder.
“Your mother copied every piece of evidence she found.””
The documents.
The accounts.
The transfers.
“The original copies were hidden.””
“Where?””
Robert looked at the ring.
“Some were inside the Matriarch Ring.””
My eyes moved toward the screen.
“And the rest?””
He paused.
“Your mother gave them to someone.””
My father whispered:
“Rebecca.””
I turned.
“What?””
My father looked devastated.
“Your mother trusted her.””
The words echoed.
Aunt Rebecca.
The woman who brought me soup when I was sick.
The woman who cried at my graduation.
The woman who told me my mother would be proud.
I couldn’t make those memories fit with betrayal.
“She couldn’t have.””
Eleanor laughed softly.
“People are always the most dangerous when you refuse to believe they can hurt you.””
I looked at her.
“Why would Rebecca do this?””
Nobody answered.
Then Daniel spoke.
“Because she wanted the same thing everyone here wanted.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
“Power.””
The simplicity of it made me angry.
“You don’t get to talk about greed.””
He lowered his eyes.
“I know.””
For once, he wasn’t defending himself.
Maybe because there was nothing left to defend.
My father walked toward the table.
“There is something else.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
He picked up the old photograph.
“The night your mother died…”
He stopped.
Then continued.
“She wasn’t alone.””
My heartbeat increased.
“Who was with her?””
His eyes moved to Eleanor.
Then Robert.
Then me.
“Rebecca.””
I felt dizzy.
“No.””
My father nodded.
“She was there.””
The memory came back.
The funeral.
Rebecca’s arms around me.
Her voice telling me:
Your mother loved you more than anything.
My stomach turned.
“She lied to me.””
Nobody corrected me.
Because everyone knew.
A sudden sound interrupted us.
The ballroom doors opened.
A security officer rushed inside.
“Mr. Vale.””
My father turned.
“What happened?””
The officer looked nervous.
“We found the phone.””
My heart stopped.
“The phone?””
He nodded.
“Your wife’s old phone.””
Everyone moved closer.
“Where?””
The officer looked at me.
“At the old Vale house.””
My father’s expression changed.
“What else?””
The officer hesitated.
“There was someone there.””
The room froze.
“Who?””
He looked down.
Then said:
“A woman.””
My breath caught.
“Rebecca?””
The officer looked at me.
“Yes.””
Nobody spoke.
My father grabbed his coat.
“Take me there.””
But I stopped him.
“No.””
Everyone looked at me.
My father frowned.
“Vivienne.””
I looked toward the ballroom doors.
The old version of me would have followed him.
The woman who trusted everyone.
The woman who waited for someone else to save her.
She was gone.
“I’m going.””
My father shook his head.
“It’s dangerous.””
I looked at him.
“So was tonight.””
That silenced him.
I walked forward.
Then my phone buzzed.
A new message.
One sentence.
*Come alone if you want the truth about your mother.*
I looked at the screen.
Then at my father.
And I knew.
Whoever was waiting at that house wanted me separated from everyone.
May you like
But they made one mistake.
They thought I was still alone.
