Chapter 4 - My Father Had Been Waiting for MeThe townhouse looked different when I returned.
Not because anything had changed.
Because I had.
Two days earlier, I had walked through that front door hoping my family would somehow remember that I belonged there.
Now I parked across the street and stared at the windows like I was looking at a crime scene.
Dad opened the door before I knocked.
He looked older.
More frightened.
Mom stood behind him.
Jessica remained halfway up the staircase.
Blake wasn't there.
I noticed immediately.
“Where is he?”
Dad ignored the question.
“Come inside.”
I stepped through the doorway.
The same hallway.
The same photographs.
The same dining table.
But the air was different.
Dad closed the door.
“Natalie, we need to talk.”
“We do.”
Mom's eyes were red.
She reached for me.
I stepped back.
She stopped.
“You don't understand what happened,” she said.
I laughed once.
“No. I understand much more than I did three days ago.”
Dad's jaw tightened.
“Richard Mercer called you.”
“Yes.”
“You should have stayed out of this.”
I looked at him.
“Out of what?”
He said nothing.
I pulled the guarantee document from my bag.
“This?”
Mom went pale.
Dad stared at the paper.
“Where did you get that?”
“Mercer Urban.”
His silence told me enough.
“You used my signature.”
Dad immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“You told me it was a temporary loan adjustment.”
“It was complicated.”
“It was fraud.”
Mom started crying.
Dad raised his voice.
“Watch what you say.”
For years, that sentence had worked.
Not anymore.
I placed the document on the table.
“You took a loan in my name.”
“We were trying to protect the family.”
“No.”
I pointed at the paper.
“You were protecting Blake.”
Dad looked away.
Then came the sentence I had been dreading.
“You were never supposed to find out.”
I froze.
Mom closed her eyes.
Dad seemed to realize what he had admitted.
He straightened.
“That isn't what I meant.”
I stared at him.
“Who altered the documents?”
Silence.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
“Daniel.”
I blinked.
“Daniel Crowe?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Dad sat down.
His shoulders collapsed.
“Because he owed me.”
I stared.
“You told me Daniel stole from you.”
“He did.”
“But you worked with him afterward.”
Dad didn't answer.
I understood.
The room seemed to tilt.
“You lied to me.”
“We had no choice.”
“You always had a choice.”
Dad slammed his hand against the table.
“You don't know what it was like!”
I stood perfectly still.
“You don't know what it was like?” I repeated.
His anger faded.
He looked ashamed.
“I was drowning.”
“I know.”
“I lost everything.”
“I know.”
“We needed money.”
“I know.”
“And Blake needed a future.”
There it was.
Always Blake.
I shook my head.
“You needed a future. Not me.”
Dad looked at me.
For the first time in my life, he didn't deny it.
Mom whispered,
“We thought you could handle it.”
I felt something inside me break.
Not painfully.
Quietly.
Like the final thread in a rope.
“You thought I could handle being used.”
Mom cried harder.
“No.”
“Yes.”
I pulled out my phone.
“I have the video.”
Dad's face drained of color.
Mom stopped crying.
“What video?” Jessica asked from the stairs.
I looked up.
“The one where all of you discuss how easy I am to manipulate.”
Jessica froze.
Dad whispered,
“Blake recorded that?”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
“Why?”
I almost smiled.
Because that was the question I had wanted to ask for years.
Why?
Why had I never been enough?
Why did my sacrifices never count?
Why did Blake always deserve understanding while I had to earn love?
But instead I asked something else.
“Where is Blake?”
Dad didn't answer.
Jessica did.
“He left.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
I looked at Mom.
She finally spoke.
“He took the emergency cash.”
I laughed.
“Of course he did.”
Then there was a knock.
Three sharp knocks.
Dad opened the door.
Two investigators stood outside.
Behind them was Richard Mercer.
One of the investigators held up a badge.
“We're here regarding Bennett Design Solutions.”
My father stepped backward.
Mom gasped.
Jessica gripped the banister.
Richard looked at me.
Then at my parents.
“We need access to the financial records.”
Dad whispered,
“Natalie, you have to help us.”
I stared at him.
“For four years, I did.”
He shook his head.
“You don't understand.”
“I understand perfectly.”
One investigator entered.
Then another.
Richard stayed near the doorway.
He looked at me.
“There is one thing you need to know.”
“What?”
“Your brother didn't create the company in your name.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who did?”
Richard glanced toward my father.
And answered,
“Your mother.”
Mom collapsed into the nearest chair.
I stared at her.
She covered her face.
May you like
And suddenly, the person who had spent years calling me whenever she needed money was no longer crying because she was afraid of losing me.
She was crying because she was afraid I had finally found everything.
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