Chapter 10 - My Father's Final WillI stared at the envelope.
My hands were trembling so badly that I nearly dropped it.
Margaret whispered:
“No.”
Laura looked at me.
“Your father knew this day might come.”
I opened it.
Inside was a copy of the final will.
The real one.
My father's signature was at the bottom.
The estate was divided.
The house.
The family business.
The investment accounts.
The controlling shares.
All of it went to me.
But there was one condition.
I had to be unmarried when the transfer became effective.
I read the sentence twice.
Then a third time.
Margaret had not simply wanted me out of the house.
She had wanted me trapped inside the marriage.
Daniel saw the document.
“I didn't know.”
I looked at him.
“I know.”
He lowered his head.
Margaret screamed:
“This is not fair!”
Richard turned toward her.
“Neither was what you did.”
She raised the gun again.
The police officers immediately moved.
“Put it down!”
Margaret hesitated.
Then she let it fall.
The gun hit the floor.
Everything changed after that.
The police arrested her.
But she wasn't finished.
As they led her outside, she looked at me.
“You think this is over?”
I said nothing.
She smiled.
“You have no idea what Thomas did.”
The door closed behind her.
I turned to Richard.
“What did she mean?”
He didn't answer.
Laura did.
“Because there is another page.”
My stomach tightened.
She handed me a second sheet.
At the top was one sentence:
My daughter must know the truth about her mother's disappearance.
I stared.
“My mother's disappearance?”
Laura nodded.
“Your mother did not die.”
The room went silent.
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
Laura opened another file.
Inside was a photograph.
My mother.
Older.
Alive.
Standing in front of a small house by the sea.
The photograph had been taken only six months ago.
I looked at Richard.
He looked away.
“You knew?”
“For years.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother asked me to keep you safe.”
I could hardly speak.
“From what?”
Laura answered:
“From Margaret.”
Daniel stood slowly.
“If Emily's mother is alive, where is she?”
Laura turned the photograph around.
There was an address.
A town I had never heard of.
Three hours away.
And beneath it, handwritten in my mother's handwriting:
Tell Emily I am sorry. Tell her I never stopped loving her.
My knees weakened.
I sat down.
Twenty-seven years of believing my mother was gone.
Twenty-seven years of believing my father was dead.
And now both secrets had been ripped open in a single night.
Richard walked toward me.
“There is something else.”
I looked up.
“What?”
He swallowed.
“Your mother left because she witnessed the accident.”
My blood ran cold.
“She saw who killed your father.”
“Who?”
Richard didn't answer.
Laura did.
“Peter Collins.”
I stared.
Daniel's uncle.
But Peter had been declared dead fifteen years ago.
Laura looked at me.
“He wasn't.”
The room suddenly felt too small.
My family had been lying to me for twenty-seven years.
May you like
And apparently one of the people I thought was dead...
was still alive.
