Chapter 8: The Night My Mother Died
I read the message over and over.
The night my mother died.
Those words felt like a weapon.
Because that night had always been painful.
But simple.
My mother got sick.
Her condition worsened.
The doctors couldn’t save her.
That was the story I had been told.
The only story.
Until now.
I looked at Diane.
She had gone completely still.
“You know who sent that.””
It wasn’t a question.
Her eyes moved to the phone.
“No.””
“You’re lying.””
She shook her head.
“No, Nia. I’m afraid.””
My father stepped forward.
“Everyone needs to calm down.””
I turned on him.
“You don’t get to say that anymore.””
He stopped.
“Because every time something happened, you told me to stay calm.””
My voice shook.
“You told me not to ask questions.””
I held up my phone.
“And now I find out my mother’s death has secrets?””
My father looked devastated.
“Nia…”
“No.””
I walked downstairs.
Nobody stopped me.
The living room looked exactly the same.
The same couch.
The same fireplace.
The same place where I sat as a teenager waiting for my father to come home from the hospital.
Waiting for someone to tell me my mother would be okay.
Evelyn Price was still standing near the table.
When she saw my face, she immediately knew something happened.
“What did you find?””
I looked at her.
“My mother’s death.””
Her expression changed.
“Explain.””
I showed her the message.
She read it silently.
Then looked at Richard.
“Is there something you haven’t told us?””
My father didn’t answer.
That was enough.
Evelyn’s voice became colder.
“Richard.””
He sat down.
“I don’t know what you want me to say.””
“The truth.””
He covered his face.
“The night Evelyn died…”
Everyone waited.
“She wasn’t supposed to be alone.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
He looked at me.
“I left the hospital.””
I stared.
“You left?””
He nodded slowly.
“Marcus called me.””
My hands went numb.
“Why?””
“He said it was urgent.””
Evelyn looked furious.
“You left your dying wife because Marcus called?””
My father looked ashamed.
“I thought I’d be gone ten minutes.””
“And?””
He closed his eyes.
“When I came back, she had already gotten worse.””
I felt tears building.
“Did she know you left?””
His silence answered.
I stepped backward.
“My mother spent her last moments wondering where you were.””
“Nia…”
“Don’t.””
The pain was too deep.
Because I had spent years believing my father lost my mother.
But maybe he had abandoned her when she needed him most.
Diane walked into the room.
“I need to tell you something.””
Everyone looked at her.
She held her hands together tightly.
“The night Evelyn died, Marcus was at the hospital.””
My father looked at her.
“What?””
Diane nodded.
“He wasn’t there to see Richard.””
My blood froze.
“Why was he there?””
She looked at me.
“He wanted to know if your mother had told anyone about the evidence.””
Evelyn stepped forward.
“Evidence?””
Diane nodded.
“Your mother had discovered everything.””
My voice became quiet.
“And Marcus was scared.””
“Yes.””
“Did he hurt her?””
Diane looked away.
“I don’t know.””
That answer felt worse than a yes.
“What do you mean?””
She swallowed.
“I saw Marcus leave her room.””
The room went silent.
My father stood.
“You never told me that.””
“I was afraid.””
“Afraid of what?””
Diane looked at him.
“Of him.””
For once, my father had no argument.
I looked at Evelyn.
“Can we prove this?””
She nodded slowly.
“Possibly.””
“How?””
Diane reached into her purse.
She pulled out an old phone.
“I kept this.””
Everyone stared.
“What is that?””
“A recording.””
My heart started pounding.
“Of what?””
Diane looked at the phone.
“The last conversation I had with Marcus.””
My father whispered:
“Diane…”
She looked at me.
“I should have given this to your mother years ago.””
She pressed the power button.
The old device flickered.
Everyone gathered closer.
A recording began.
Static.
Then a man’s voice.
Marcus.
“I don’t care what Evelyn knows. The girl is the weakness.””
My blood turned cold.
Another voice responded.
Diane.
“Leave Nia out of this.””
Marcus laughed.
“She’s the reason Evelyn won’t cooperate.””
I covered my mouth.
Then Marcus spoke again.
“Once Evelyn is gone, the daughter won’t matter.””
The recording continued.
But then a sound interrupted.
A door opening.
A woman’s voice.
My mother.
My knees almost gave out.
Because the last thing recorded on that phone was my mother saying:
“Marcus, I know exactly what you did.””
The recording suddenly cut off.
And nobody spoke.
Until Evelyn whispered:
May you like
“Your mother knew.””
Then the lights in the house went out.
