Chapter 4 - What Mother Took From MeI read Grandma's letter twice.
Then a third time.
Nothing changed.
The words were still there.
Your mother did not merely overlook you.
She profited from doing so.
My throat tightened.
Mother stared at me.
“Don't believe it.”
I looked at her.
“Why not?”
“Because she was old.”
Adrian's expression hardened.
“Mrs. Odette, I strongly advise you not to make statements you cannot support.”
Mother ignored him.
“She didn't understand the business.”
Grandma had written six pages.
Not vague accusations.
Dates.
Account numbers.
Names.
Contracts.
Every major milestone of my early work.
When I was sixteen, I had designed that tracking system.
At seventeen, a regional transportation company had licensed part of the software.
At eighteen, I had earned my first serious payment.
According to Grandma, Mother had taken that money.
Not spent it.
Moved it.
An account had been opened in my name.
Then another.
Then another.
Grandma had discovered everything years later.
But she hadn't confronted Mother immediately.
She'd built a record first.
Adrian showed me copies.
Every deposit.
Every transfer.
Every withdrawal.
There was a recurring destination.
Solange.
Tuition.
Luxury apartments.
European trips.
Designer purchases.
Private club fees.
I felt sick.
“Why would she do this?”
Nobody answered.
Then Solange whispered, “Because Mom helped me.”
I looked at her.
“With my money?”
She didn't respond.
Mother did.
“It was family money.”
“No.”
“It belonged to the family.”
“You used my money.”
Mother's face hardened.
“You weren't using it.”
I laughed once.
That sentence almost broke me.
“Because I was sixteen.”
“You were a child.”
“So you took everything I earned.”
“You didn't understand money.”
I stared at her.
“You weren't protecting me.”
“I was managing your future.”
“By financing Solange's life?”
Mother stood.
“Your sister needed opportunities.”
I looked at Solange.
She suddenly looked very small.
“She had opportunities because you took mine.”
“You always had to compete with her,” Mother said.
“No.”
I pointed at the documents.
“You made it a competition.”
Adrian quietly turned another page.
“There is more.”
He pulled out a corporate filing.
A company name appeared.
Apex Reclamation Solutions.
I frowned.
“That isn't Apex.”
“No.”
He looked at Mother.
“It's a shell company registered eighteen years ago.”
Emery leaned forward.
“Who owns it?”
Adrian placed the document on the table.
The listed owner was Solange.
My sister covered her mouth.
I looked at her.
“You owned a company using my technology?”
“No.”
Adrian interrupted.
“The incorporation documents contain your sister's signature.”
Solange began crying.
“Mom told me it was paperwork.”
I turned to her.
“What paperwork?”
She wouldn't look at me.
Mother said, “You are twisting this.”
Adrian's voice became colder.
“No one is twisting anything.”
He opened a folder.
“This is a forensic accounting report prepared at Mrs. Cordelia's request.”
Pages spread across the table.
There were enough transfers to make my head spin.
Millions, over years.
Not just from me.
From Grandma's trusts.
From family investments.
From companies connected to Mother.
I looked at the final page.
There was a handwritten note from Grandma.
FOLLOW THE MONEY, NOT THE STORIES.
Emery squeezed my hand.
I whispered, “Why didn't Grandma tell me?”
Adrian answered.
“Because she was afraid you would confront them before she had enough evidence.”
My eyes burned.
Then I noticed something.
One name appeared in nearly every transaction.
A man named Laurent Bell.
“Who is he?”
Mother suddenly stopped breathing.
Solange looked at her.
“Mom?”
Mother stared at the name.
Adrian closed the folder.
“Laurent Bell was your grandmother's financial adviser.”
“And?”
“He disappeared twelve years ago.”
I looked at him.
“Disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Adrian hesitated.
“Because three days before he vanished, he called your grandmother and said he had discovered where the missing money was going.”
I felt cold.
“Where?”
May you like
Adrian looked toward the blue library door.
“That's what the next file is about.”
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