Chapter 8: The Truth Patricia Could No Longer Hide
“Both?””
I repeated the word.
Patricia smiled as though she'd just made an ordinary request.
“Yes, Daniel. Both girls.””
Rebecca stepped backward.
Lily moved behind her.
I looked at Patricia.
“You have no right to either child.””
She lifted the folder.
“Actually, I have documentation.””
I laughed.
“Documentation?””
“Legal guardianship papers.””
I stared at her.
“You forged my signature.””
Patricia sighed.
“Must we do this in front of the children?””
I turned toward Rebecca.
“Take Lily upstairs.””
Rebecca hesitated.
“Daniel—”
“Please.””
She picked Lily up and disappeared into the hallway.
Patricia watched them go.
“She's grown attached to that woman.””
I stepped closer.
“Rebecca raised her because your brother and you stole her from her parents.””
Patricia's smile vanished.
“Watch your words.””
“No. You watch yours.””
Andrew entered the house behind her.
He closed the door quietly.
“Daniel, you're making a mistake.””
I turned.
“You've got five minutes to tell me where you were when Emily died.””
Andrew shook his head.
“Not this again.””
“Did you know she was alive when she arrived at the hospital?””
He looked at Patricia.
She gave him a tiny nod.
Then he answered.
“Yes.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I gripped the back of a chair.
“You knew?””
Andrew sighed.
“Emily was in terrible condition. There was nothing I could do.””
“Were you her husband?””
“No.””
“Then why were you making decisions?””
“Because you weren't there!””
I stared at him.
“I was in another state for a business meeting. I would have come immediately.””
Andrew raised his voice.
“You were always away! Always working! Emily was alone with everything.””
“Don't you dare use my absence to justify what you did.””
Andrew looked away.
Patricia placed her folder on the dining table.
“Daniel, we need to be practical.””
I laughed.
“Practical?””
“Yes. The children have established lives. Rebecca has raised Lily.
Sophia has been with me for years. You can't suddenly disrupt everything because you found some old paperwork.””
I stared at her.
“You made Sophia believe her mother abandoned her.””
Patricia folded her arms.
“She needed stability.””
“You made her wash clothes in the dark.””
“She needed discipline.””
“You left her alone for days.””
“I arranged for someone to check on her!””
“Who?””
She looked away.
I stepped closer.
“Who, Patricia?””
Andrew interrupted.
“Enough!””
He placed both hands on the dining table.
“You want the truth? Fine. We did what we thought was necessary.””
I looked at him.
“What exactly did you do?””
Andrew glanced toward the staircase.
Then he spoke.
“Emily had discovered the insurance arrangement. She knew about the trust. She was going to take both children and expose everything.””
I frowned.
“What insurance arrangement?””
Patricia opened the folder.
Inside were several documents.
She pushed them toward me.
“Your father established a family trust before he died. It was designed to protect the next generation.””
I looked at the papers.
My father had died when I was twenty-eight.
He had owned several commercial properties and left behind substantial investments.
I had always believed the estate was divided between Andrew and me.
But the documents showed something different.
A separate trust had been created for the first two grandchildren.
Sophia and Lily.
Both children were listed as beneficiaries.
The trust held more than $2.4 million.
My hands went cold.
“Why didn't I know about this?””
Andrew gave a humorless laugh.
“Because Dad didn't trust you with it.””
I looked at him.
“What?””
“He thought you were too distracted by your business. He wanted someone responsible to manage the children's inheritance.””
I stared at the signature on the document.
My father's.
It looked genuine.
But the trust management section listed Andrew and Patricia as trustees.
“Why Patricia?””
Andrew answered.
“She was helping with the family finances.””
I turned toward her.
“And you used the trust money?””
Patricia didn't deny it.
“We invested it.””
“In what?””
“Different ventures.””
“Which ones?””
She looked irritated.
“Daniel, I don't owe you an explanation for every decision.””
I picked up another document.
The latest account statement showed multiple withdrawals.
One for $300,000.
Another for $450,000.
And another for $275,000.
I looked up.
“Where did this money go?””
Andrew leaned back.
“Business investments.””
“Which business?””
He didn't answer.
Marcus had been right.
This wasn't simply a family dispute.
It was a financial crime involving millions of dollars.
I took photographs of the documents.
Patricia immediately reached for my phone.
“Stop!””
I stepped back.
“Don't touch me.””
Her expression hardened.
“You're going to ruin everything.””
I looked at her.
“You ruined it when you stole two children from their mother.””
Andrew slammed his fist on the table.
“Emily was going to ruin us!””
I stared at him.
“Us?””
He realized what he'd said.
But he continued.
“She was going to take the money, the children, and expose the entire arrangement. She didn't care what happened to anyone.””
“Did you cause her accident?””
Andrew went silent.
Patricia looked at him.
I watched their faces.
And then Andrew said something I would never forget.
“I didn't put her car on the road.””
My stomach dropped.
“What?””
He rubbed his forehead.
“I didn't make her drive that night.””
I stepped closer.
“But you knew she was going somewhere.””
Andrew looked down.
Patricia closed her eyes.
I felt my blood turn cold.
“Where was she going?””
Andrew finally looked at me.
“She was going to meet someone.””
“Who?””
He hesitated.
Then he whispered:
“You.””
I froze.
“What?””
“Emily had arranged to meet you at the airport. She wanted to tell you about the twins.””
I shook my head.
“I never received that message.””
Andrew looked at Patricia.
She stared at the floor.
“Because I deleted it,” she said.
I turned toward her.
“You what?””
“She was going to destroy our family.””
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
“You deleted my wife's final message?””
Patricia shrugged.
“I was trying to prevent a disaster.””
Andrew walked toward the window.
“She never made it to the airport.””
I grabbed his arm.
“What happened?””
He pulled away.
“Her car went off the road.””
“Why?””
“I don't know!””
“Who was driving behind her?””
Andrew looked at Patricia.
Then he looked at me.
For the first time, he seemed genuinely frightened.
“Someone followed her.””
“Who?””
He shook his head.
“I didn't see the driver.””
I released his arm.
“Did you arrange it?””
“No.””
“Did Patricia?””
Andrew said nothing.
I turned toward her.
“Did you?””
Patricia stared at me.
Then she spoke softly.
“Daniel, if I wanted Emily dead, why would I spend six years keeping her daughters alive?””
I looked at her.
The question was disgusting.
But there was something worse.
She seemed to believe it was reasonable.
A sound came from upstairs.
Lily was crying.
Rebecca appeared at the top of the staircase.
“Daniel!””
I ran toward her.
“What happened?””
She held out a small tablet.
“Lily found this in her room.””
I took it.
The screen showed an old video.
A woman was speaking to the camera.
Emily.
She looked directly into the lens.
“If you're watching this, then Patricia has probably found Lily.””
I pressed play.
Emily continued.
“I need you to know that the person who arranged the accident was not Andrew.””
I looked at Patricia.
Her face went white.
Emily's voice trembled.
“It was someone closer to Daniel than anyone suspects.””
The recording ended.
A second video appeared automatically.
The title was:
*THE REAL DRIVER — FINAL COPY.*
I pressed play.
The image showed a hospital corridor.
A woman was walking toward the camera.
She was carrying a handbag.
She stopped outside Emily's room.
Then she turned slightly.
I recognized her face.
Patricia.
But the next image made my heart stop.
She wasn't alone.
Standing beside her was my mother.
Margaret Carter.
The woman who had held me at Emily's funeral.
The woman who had helped raise Sophia.
The woman who had told me, for six years, that Emily's death was an unfortunate accident.
I stared at the screen.
Then I heard the front door open behind me.
A familiar voice spoke.
“Daniel, darling?””
I turned slowly.
My mother stood in the doorway.
She was holding a small suitcase.
May you like
And she was smiling.
“It's time you stopped digging into the past.””
