Chapter 12 - The Secret My Mother Took to Her GraveMy father slept for nearly twelve hours.
I stayed beside his hospital bed, refusing to leave even when Evelyn brought me food. I was terrified that if I looked away for too long, someone would move him again.
When Camden finally opened his eyes, his gaze settled on me.
“You've grown up,” he whispered.
I laughed, but the sound broke halfway through.
“Three years in prison will do that.”
His expression crumpled.
“I'm sorry, son.”
I shook my head.
“You have nothing to apologize for. You tried to protect me.”
“I should have found a way to reach you.”
“How? Reagan controlled the house, the company, and apparently half the people who were supposed to protect us. You were drugged and locked away.”
He closed his eyes.
“I should have destroyed them before they had the chance to hurt you.”
I took his hand.
“Tell me about Mom.”
His fingers tightened around mine.
“Your mother discovered that Julian Cross was stealing from the company before either of us understood how far his fraud extended. She found irregular payments, falsified contracts, and evidence that money was being diverted into accounts he controlled.”
“Why didn't she tell the police?”
“She planned to. But she wanted to understand the full scheme first. She believed that if she confronted him too early, he'd destroy the records and blame someone else.”
“Someone like me.”
“Exactly.”
He stared at the ceiling.
“Julian and I had built the company together. When I bought out his shares, he claimed I'd cheated him. He spent years trying to regain control. Your mother found proof that he was moving money through fraudulent contracts, so he began threatening her.”
I remembered the woman in the photographs from my childhood. My mother had always been warm and affectionate, but during the final months before her death, she'd become increasingly anxious.
I'd assumed she was frightened by her illness.
Now I wondered whether she'd been frightened of someone else.
“She died in a car accident,” I said.
“That was the official explanation.”
“Do you believe Julian caused it?”
My father looked at me for a long time.
“I believe he knew more than he admitted. Your mother's medical report contained inconsistencies, and the accident investigation was closed remarkably quickly. I couldn't prove he arranged it, but I never stopped suspecting him.”
“Then why stay silent?”
“Because I was terrified of losing you, too.”
He turned toward me.
“After your mother died, I buried myself in work. I convinced myself that if I kept the company strong, I could keep you safe. Then Reagan came into our lives, and I mistook her attention for genuine affection.”
He coughed, wincing as the movement pulled at his chest.
“Your mother left something behind. A record of the original transactions and a signed declaration explaining what she'd discovered. She hid it inside her music box.”
“The box Reagan has?”
“Yes. She knew about the hidden compartment, but she never found the mechanism. Only your mother and I knew how it opened.”
“What does it contain?”
“The original will, a copy of your mother's evidence, and documents establishing that the Meridian Trust owns the controlling shares.”
I sat back.
“So the secret that could destroy everything they've stolen has been sitting in our living room the entire time.”
“For a year, yes.”
“Why didn't Reagan destroy it?”
“Because she didn't know whether destroying the box would destroy the trust's claim. She needed the original documents to know precisely what she was dealing with.”
He reached toward the bedside drawer and removed a folded piece of paper.
My name was written across the front.
“Your mother made me promise to give you this when you were ready.”
Inside was a short note.
Finnley, if anyone ever tries to make you ashamed of who you are, remember that a lie can change the world's opinion of you without changing the truth. Don't spend your life trying to convince cruel people to love you. Find the truth, protect the innocent, and leave the rest to justice.
I pressed the paper against my chest.
For three years, I'd survived by telling myself that my father believed in me.
Now I had proof that my mother had believed in me, too.
Then Camden's expression changed.
“There's something else.”
He reached for my arm.
“Carter has been meeting Julian for years. Your stepbrother wasn't merely helping Reagan steal the company.”
“What was he doing?”
“Preparing to take my place.”
He swallowed.
“Julian promised Carter control of Dennis Enterprises if he helped destroy the Meridian Trust. And Carter agreed to help him obtain the one thing he needed most.”
“The original will?”
“No.”
My father's eyes filled with tears.
“Your mother's signature.”
I stared at him.
“She died before any of this happened.”
“Precisely. Julian forged a declaration in her name claiming she'd agreed to transfer her shares to him. Your mother's signature is the final missing piece in his claim against the trust.”
My stomach turned.
They hadn't merely stolen my inheritance.
They had used a dead woman's name to do it.
And if they succeeded, they would erase the last legal connection between my family and the company my parents had built.
I stood up.
“Then I'll get the music box.”
Camden gripped my hand.
“Finnley, listen to me. Reagan knows the truth is close to coming out. She'll do anything to keep that box away from you.”
I looked toward the window.
Outside, a black car had just stopped beside the hospital entrance.
A woman stepped out.
Emerald dress. Blonde hair. Familiar posture.
Reagan.
She looked up at the hospital window, smiled directly at me, and lifted a telephone to her ear.
My phone rang a second later.
I answered.
“Hello, Finnley,” she said. “I hear you've found your father.”
I said nothing.
“Congratulations. You've solved one little mystery. But you still have no idea what your mother really signed.”
Her smile widened.
“And if you come for that music box, you'll discover that the truth can be much more dangerous than a lie.”
The call ended.
I looked at my father.
He was already trying to sit up.
“Don't go after her alone,” he whispered.
But Reagan had made one mistake.
May you like
She'd threatened my mother again.
And that was something I would never forgive.
