Chapter 5 - The Night Grandpa DiedI spent the next two days trying not to think about the word alive.
It followed me everywhere.
Alive when Dad arrived.
Alive when Mom saw him.
Alive before the ambulance.
The official story had always been simple.
My grandfather slipped on the wet steps at his country property.
He suffered a severe head injury.
He died before reaching the hospital.
I was sixteen.
I remembered the funeral.
I remembered my father crying.
I remembered my mother telling me to stay strong.
I remembered Marissa complaining that her shoes hurt.
What I didn't remember was asking any questions.
I was the responsible daughter.
I accepted whatever explanation kept the family functioning.
Now I wanted the truth.
Daniel sent me the police report.
There were inconsistencies.
A neighbor reported hearing shouting.
Another witness said my father's truck arrived approximately forty minutes before the ambulance.
My mother's statement claimed she arrived afterward.
But another document placed her at the property earlier.
I printed everything.
Then I found the strangest detail.
A missing page.
Page seven was absent from the report.
I called the police records office.
The page existed.
But it had been restricted.
Restricted by whom?
The requestor's name was listed.
Elaine Bennett.
My mother.
I stared at the paper.
Mom had personally requested that a page of my grandfather's death investigation be sealed.
Why?
I drove to her house.
She opened the door and froze.
“You.”
“Yes.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I want the truth.”
She looked over my shoulder.
No car.
No Daniel.
She stepped outside and closed the door behind her.
“Claire, you’re upset.”
“Who sealed page seven?”
Her face changed.
Just slightly.
But I saw it.
“You've been talking to someone.”
“Answer me.”
She sighed.
“You don't understand the circumstances.”
“I understand enough.”
“You've been manipulated.”
“By who?”
“You don't know these people.”
“My grandfather died.”
Her voice cracked.
“We lost him too.”
“What happened that night?”
She looked away.
“I told the police everything.”
“No. You didn't.”
“Claire…”
“Why was page seven sealed?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
For a moment, she looked like my mother again.
The woman who used to braid my hair.
The woman who kissed my forehead when I was sick.
Then she whispered,
“Because your father threatened to leave us.”
I felt the ground shift.
“Threatened you?”
“He said he would take everything.”
“Everything?”
“You. Marissa. Me.”
I stared at her.
“What did Grandpa know?”
She shook her head.
“I can't.”
“You can.”
“I can't.”
“Did Dad hurt him?”
She looked directly at me.
And didn't answer.
I stepped back.
That was answer enough.
Mom started crying.
“I was afraid.”
“Of Dad?”
“Yes.”
“For seventeen years?”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“Then why did you keep protecting him?”
She whispered,
“Because I thought I was protecting you.”
I wanted to believe her.
That was the cruelest part.
A piece of me still wanted to.
Then she said something that ruined even that possibility.
“Your father told me if I ever spoke, you would lose everything.”
I stared at her.
“You mean the trust.”
She nodded.
“He said he had ways to make you look unstable.”
My heart pounded.
“He planned this?”
“For years.”
I left without another word.
That night, Daniel came to my apartment.
He had discovered who restricted page seven.
Not my father.
Not my mother.
A lawyer.
A corporate attorney who had represented Bennett Distribution for years.
His name was Richard Cole.
Daniel placed a thick envelope on my table.
“There’s more.”
“What?”
“The company was not almost bankrupt seventeen years ago.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“It was profitable.”
“Then why did Grandpa create the trust?”
“Because he discovered money was disappearing.”
“How much?”
Daniel looked at me.
“Nearly four million dollars.”
I stared at him.
“Where did it go?”
“We traced the first transfers.”
My stomach tightened.
“To an account controlled by your father.”
“And after that?”
“To an account overseas.”
“Whose?”
Daniel opened the final page.
The account was held by a corporation.
The corporation's only listed beneficiary was…
Richard Cole.
The family attorney.
I sat down.
“My father and his lawyer stole four million dollars.”
“Possibly.”
“And Grandpa found out.”
“Yes.”
“And then Grandpa died.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Daniel.
“What are you saying?”
He didn't answer.
He didn't need to.
I picked up my phone.
For the first time, I wasn't calling my parents.
I called the police.
But before I could explain anything, a text appeared on my screen.
From Marissa.
You should have stayed quiet, Claire.
Another message arrived immediately.
Because now Dad knows what you found.
May you like
Then a third.
And he's coming for your house tonight.
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