Chapter 7: The Secret Behind the Brass Key
“Absolutely not.””
Mr. Collins took my phone from the table and read Daniel's message again.
Michael stood near the window, already making a call.
Rachel closed her laptop.
“Lauren, you are not going back to that house alone.””
I looked at the last message.
If you want to know what your mother really left you, come home. Alone. Because the key isn't the only thing she hid from you.
My mother had been dead for fourteen months.
Yet somehow, Daniel was still using her secrets to control me.
“I need to know what he has,” I said.
Mr. Collins shook his head.
“Then we'll find out without giving him what he wants.””
Michael ended his call.
“My security team is contacting the local authorities. Vanessa is still at the property. We need to make sure she's safe.””
I grabbed my purse.
“I'm going.””
Michael looked at me.
“Lauren, wait.””
“I won't go inside without you. But I'm not sitting here while Daniel threatens someone in my house.””
Rachel gathered the documents.
“Then we're going together.””
Twenty-five minutes later, the black Cadillac pulled into my driveway.
The front gate was still open.
One of the outdoor lights had been knocked sideways, and the patio furniture was scattered.
The fire pit had gone cold.
Daniel's clothes were gone, leaving behind a dark patch of ash.
I stepped out of the vehicle.
Vanessa stood near the front entrance.
Her face was pale.
A small red mark crossed her wrist.
“Vanessa!””
She hurried toward me.
“Lauren, I'm sorry.””
“What happened?””
She looked over her shoulder.
“He wanted the key.””
“Did you give it to him?””
“No.””
“Where is it?””
She opened her hand.
The small brass key lay against her palm.
I took it.
“Why did you keep it?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“Because I found the envelope before I found the photograph. I knew it was important.””
Daniel appeared in the doorway.
He was wearing a dark shirt and jeans.
His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Lauren.””
I didn't move.
“Stay where you are.””
He looked at Michael.
“This doesn't concern you.””
Michael stepped beside me.
“Unfortunately, Daniel, your decisions have made it everyone's concern.””
Daniel ignored him.
“Lauren, give me the key.””
“No.””
“You don't understand what you're holding.””
“Then explain it.””
He shook his head.
“Not in front of them.””
I looked at him.
“Still trying to control who hears the truth?””
He stepped down from the doorway.
“Your mother was not the person you think she was.””
The words struck harder than I expected.
I looked at Vanessa.
She lowered her eyes.
“What did you tell her?”” I asked Daniel.
He laughed bitterly.
“She told you about the envelope, didn't she?””
“Yes.””
“Then you already know.””
“No. I know you want me to believe something.””
His face tightened.
“Eleanor wasn't innocent.””
I stared at him.
“Careful.””
“She manipulated the company. She made private agreements. She controlled people behind their backs.””
“She invested in your company.””
“She controlled my company!””
There it was.
The truth.
Not grief.
Not betrayal.
Resentment.
My mother had built something Daniel couldn't control, and he'd spent years pretending otherwise.
“You hated her because she wouldn't let you take advantage of me,” I said.
Daniel stepped closer.
“She thought she knew everything.””
“She knew enough.””
He looked toward the key.
“Lauren, listen. Whatever she left you, it belongs to the family.””
“Which family?””
“Ours.””
“You and I don't have an ours anymore.””
For a moment, his expression softened.
“Don't do this.””
I looked at him.
“You brought another woman into our backyard. You tried to sell a house you didn't own. You used my dead mother's name on a financial guarantee. And now you want to talk about family?””
He lowered his head.
Then his eyes moved toward Vanessa.
“You have no idea what she's done.””
Vanessa flinched.
I turned to her.
“What is he talking about?””
Daniel smiled without humor.
“Ask her why she came to my office the day before your mother died.””
I looked at Vanessa.
Her lips trembled.
“Is that true?””
She nodded.
“I went there because Daniel asked me to pick up some documents.””
“What documents?””
“I don't know. An envelope. He said it was something Eleanor had left.””
I looked at Daniel.
“Why did you give her my mother's envelope?””
“I didn't.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“You told me to keep it in your study.””
Daniel snapped.
“Be quiet!””
She stepped backward.
Michael moved beside her.
“Daniel, that's enough.””
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
“You have no idea what you're getting involved in.””
Michael answered calmly.
“I think I do.””
Then he looked at me.
“Lauren, we should leave. The bank closes in forty minutes.””
I closed my hand around the key.
Daniel's expression changed.
“Don't open that box.””
I stopped.
He took another step forward.
“Lauren, I'm asking you.””
I looked at him.
“Why?””
He swallowed.
“Because what's inside could destroy your mother's reputation.””
I held his gaze.
“Then I guess it's a good thing I'm not interested in protecting your lies.””
The private bank on Michigan Avenue occupied the ground floor of an old stone building.
My mother had opened her first account there shortly after marrying my father.
She used to take me along when she visited.
I remembered the polished marble floors, the brass railings, and the smell of leather in the private waiting room.
A bank employee named Mrs. Foster greeted us.
When I gave her my identification and the brass key, she checked the records.
Then she looked at me differently.
“Mrs. Hayes, your mother left very specific instructions.””
“What kind of instructions?””
“She requested that you be given access to the box only after her death and only if you appeared with independent legal counsel.””
Mr. Collins nodded.
“I'm here in that capacity.””
Mrs. Foster led us through a secured door.
We entered a small private room.
She placed a metal box on the table.
The key turned with a heavy click.
Inside were three envelopes, a leather notebook, a flash drive, and a photograph.
I picked up the photograph first.
It showed my mother standing outside a hospital.
Beside her was a man I recognized.
My father.
But my father had supposedly died twenty-three years earlier.
I turned the photograph over.
A date was written on the back.
Six months ago.
My hands began shaking.
“That's impossible.””
Mr. Collins looked at the photograph.
“Lauren?””
I stared at my father's face.
He looked older, thinner, but unmistakably alive.
Then I opened the first envelope.
The handwriting was my mother's.
My darling Lauren,
If you're reading this, Daniel has probably done something I feared he would do. I hope I am wrong. I hope you never needed to open this box.
But there is something I kept from you because I wanted to give you a normal life.
I stopped reading.
My eyes filled with tears.
I continued.
Your father did not die in the accident you were told about.
The room tilted.
I grabbed the edge of the table.
Mr. Collins reached for my arm.
“Lauren, are you all right?””
I shook my head.
I read the sentence again.
My father had not died.
My mother had lied to me.
For twenty-three years.
I looked at the photograph.
Then at the next envelope.
It had my father's name written across it.
*THOMAS HAYES.*
May you like
And beneath that, in my mother's handwriting, were four words.
He is still alive.
