Chapter 14 - THE WOMAN IN THE PHOTOEvelyn enlarged the image.
The woman beside Victor wasn't Mom.
But the resemblance was shocking.
Same hair.
Same posture.
Same profile.
“Who is she?”
Evelyn stared at the photo.
“I don't know.”
One investigator took the phone.
“We'll run facial recognition.”
A few minutes later, he returned.
“We have a match.”
The woman had a name.
Sandra Vale.
Age 52.
Former accountant.
She had worked for Victor years earlier.
But the real shock came next.
“She was your father's business partner.”
I looked at Dad.
He seemed genuinely shocked.
“I haven't seen her in fifteen years.”
“Why does she look like Mom?”
Dad didn't answer.
Mom went pale.
Then she whispered:
“She was my sister.”
Silence.
Everyone turned.
“You never told me you had a sister.”
Mom looked at me.
“She disappeared.”
“When?”
“After my parents died.”
“Why?”
“She took money.”
Grandma suddenly spoke.
“No.”
Mom looked at her.
“She didn't.”
“Mom?”
Grandma shook her head.
“She didn't steal it.”
“Then where did she go?”
Grandma's face became pale.
“Your father knows.”
I turned toward Dad.
He closed his eyes.
“Sandra discovered the gambling.”
“What?”
“She found out what I was doing.”
Mom stepped forward.
“You told me she left.”
“I thought she had.”
“You knew!”
Dad looked broken.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Sandra.”
“Why?”
“She had proof.”
“What proof?”
Dad looked at me.
“The original trust documents.”
The room went silent.
“You mean Grandma's trust?”
“Yes.”
“Then Sandra has the originals?”
Dad nodded.
“And she has proof that I wasn't supposed to control anything.”
My heart pounded.
“Where is she?”
“We don't know.”
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A woman's voice spoke.
“Your father lied to you.”
“Who is this?”
“You don't know me.”
“Sandra?”
Silence.
Then:
“Yes.”
“Where are you?”
“Safe.”
“With Victor?”
“No.”
“Did you take the money?”
“No.”
“Then why are you helping him?”
“I’m not.”
“Where is the inheritance?”
She hesitated.
“Still with me.”
I froze.
“What?”
“I intercepted the transfer.”
“How?”
“I've been watching Victor for years.”
“Then why didn't you stop him before?”
“Because I needed proof.”
“Proof of what?”
“Your father's involvement.”
I closed my eyes.
“So you helped us.”
“I helped you.”
“Why?”
“Because your grandfather asked me to.”
I stared at the phone.
“My grandfather?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Before he died.”
“Why me?”
“Because you were the only person in your family he trusted.”
Tears filled my eyes.
Then she said:
“You have one hour.”
“For what?”
“To decide whether you want revenge or justice.”
I swallowed.
“What does that mean?”
“I can return the money.”
“Then do it.”
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor still has the original evidence.”
“What evidence?”
“The proof that your father used your identity.”
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“Where is it?”
Sandra gave me an address.
An old office downtown.
“Go there.”
“Why?”
“Because if Victor gets there first, everything disappears.”
The line went dead.
I looked at Evelyn.
“We have one hour.”
She nodded.
The investigators moved immediately.
We drove across the city.
The office building was almost abandoned.
On the fourth floor, we found a metal door.
Inside were filing cabinets.
Boxes.
Computer servers.
And one safe.
Evelyn opened it with an emergency key provided by the investigators.
Inside was a single envelope.
My name was written on it.
I opened it.
Inside were original documents.
Photos.
Audio recordings.
And a signed confession.
Dad's signature.
I read the first line.
I acknowledge that my son did not authorize any of these companies, accounts, loans, or transfers.
I stopped breathing.
Then I turned the page.
The final paragraph said:
I did this because I believed his inheritance would save us.
I looked at Dad.
He had followed us into the room.
I raised the confession.
“Is this real?”
He nodded.
“Yes.”
My voice broke.
“You could have stopped this.”
“Yes.”
“You could have told me.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you?”
He looked at me.
“Because I was ashamed.”
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from Sandra.
The money is back.
Another message.
But your father isn't the biggest secret.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Then another message arrived.
Ask Grandma who your grandfather really was.
