Chapter 19 - The Truth About My NameI read the letter alone.
Dad explained that I had been adopted.
Not by strangers.
By him.
My biological father was another man.
A powerful banker who had been one of Northbridge's original founders.
My biological mother had died shortly after giving birth.
Dad took me because he believed I was being targeted.
My mother knew.
Lucy knew.
Daniel knew.
I was the only person who didn't.
The house.
The trust.
The company.
The entire inheritance.
It wasn't originally meant for me because I was Dad's daughter.
It was meant for me because I was the daughter of the man who had helped create everything.
My biological father had hidden billions across trusts.
Northbridge was only one piece.
I stared at the documents.
“This can't be real.”
But it was.
A birth certificate.
A sealed adoption record.
A letter from the hospital.
And a photograph.
My biological father stood beside my mother.
In his arms was a baby.
Me.
On the back was a note.
Protect her from the company.
I sat on the floor.
My whole life suddenly felt borrowed.
The person I thought I was wasn't the person the documents said I was.
Then I noticed another name.
The executor of my biological father's estate.
Victor Hale.
I called him.
He answered immediately.
“I wondered when you'd find it.”
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“What else don't I know?”
A pause.
“There is another account.”
“How much?”
“Approximately forty-eight million dollars.”
I closed my eyes.
“Where?”
“Under your biological father's name.”
“And why hasn't anyone claimed it?”
“Because the account requires your authorization.”
“Then why did nobody tell me?”
“Because the person controlling the account has been waiting.”
“Who?”
Victor hesitated.
Then said:
“Your mother.”
My stomach dropped.
“She still has access?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Victor answered:
“Lucy.”
I froze.
“Lucy?”
“Yes.”
I hung up.
I drove to my sister's house.
She opened the door.
One look at my face and she knew.
“You found out.”
“How much do you have access to?”
She started crying.
“Jenny…”
“How much?”
“Forty-eight million.”
I stared at her.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because Dad ordered me not to.”
“Which Dad?”
She whispered:
“Both of them.”
I stepped inside.
Lucy closed the door.
“There is one more thing.”
“What?”
She looked at me.
“The money isn't inheritance.”
“What is it?”
“It's a settlement.”
“For what?”
She handed me an old court document.
I read the first paragraph.
My hands began shaking.
It stated that my biological father had been responsible for an industrial disaster that killed hundreds of people.
The settlement had been hidden.
And the money had been held for the children of the victims.
Including…
Me.
I stared at Lucy.
“You're saying this money doesn't belong to me.”
“No.”
“Then why is my name on it?”
She whispered:
“Because the victims were never supposed to know the truth.”
Then my phone rang.
The caller ID showed a number I knew.
My father's prison.
I answered.
His voice came through.
“Jenny.”
“What did you do?”
He whispered:
May you like
“Everything was a lie.”
Then the line went dead.
