Chapter 11 - Uncle MarkI barely slept.
At sunrise, I called Dad.
"I need to ask you about Uncle Mark."
The line went silent.
Then he said:
"Where did you hear that name?"
"Answer me."
Another pause.
"Rachel, stay away from him."
"You lied to me."
"I was trying to protect you."
"You knew him."
"Yes."
"For how long?"
Dad sighed.
"Since before you were born."
I closed my eyes.
"Who is he?"
"His name isn't Mark."
"I know."
"He worked with some of my old business contacts."
"Did he loan Eric money?"
Dad didn't answer.
"Did he?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
"More than Eric can repay."
"How much?"
"Three hundred and fifty thousand."
I remembered the number.
"And you?"
Dad's voice cracked.
"I borrowed from him too."
My chest tightened.
"What?"
"After the business failed."
"You borrowed money from him?"
"Yes."
"How much?"
Silence.
"Dad."
"One hundred thousand."
I felt sick.
"Then why did you let me believe the bank was the problem?"
"Because I didn't want you involved."
"You involved me anyway."
He started crying.
"I thought I could fix it."
"With my identity?"
"No."
"But you watched while Eric used it."
"I didn't know at first."
"At first."
He said nothing.
I hung up.
Then Sophia called.
"Rachel, we found something."
"What?"
"The bankruptcy petition isn't the only fraudulent filing."
"What else?"
"There's a trust."
"What kind?"
"A family trust."
"Who is the beneficiary?"
She hesitated.
"You."
I closed my eyes.
"Who created it?"
"Your mother."
"When?"
"Twenty years ago."
Twenty years.
Before the company.
Before the debts.
Before the mortgage.
Before everything.
"Why?"
"We're still looking."
Then Sophia said something that made me sit upright.
"Rachel, the trust contains a handwritten letter."
"From whom?"
"Your mother."
"Can I see it?"
"It's being couriered now."
I waited.
An hour later, Sophia placed the letter in front of me.
The envelope was yellowed with age.
My mother's handwriting covered the front.
For Rachel, only after the family is in danger.
My fingers trembled.
I opened it.
The first line stopped me.
Rachel, if you're reading this, then your father failed to keep his promise.
I read on.
My mother explained that twenty years earlier, my father had entered a business partnership that went wrong.
They had discovered that one of his partners was laundering money through construction projects.
My parents had tried to walk away.
But they couldn't.
They owed money.
They owed favors.
And they were afraid.
My mother had created the trust to protect me.
She moved assets into it gradually.
Property.
Investments.
Cash.
She had intended to give me everything after I turned thirty-five.
I stared at the page.
I had turned thirty-five a year ago.
The trust had activated.
That meant the seven properties weren't my family's assets.
They were mine.
My mother continued:
Your father wanted to use the trust to settle his debts. I refused.
Then the next paragraph made my hands go cold.
Eric discovered the trust.
And beneath that:
He has been trying to force you out of it ever since.
May you like
At the bottom of the page was one final sentence.
Rachel, I'm sorry. But the mortgage was never meant to save us. It was meant to keep you from discovering what was already yours.
