Chapter 7: The Video That Exposed Our Mother
"Brielle! Answer me!""
I stood in the middle of the railway building, gripping my phone so tightly my fingers hurt.
Nothing.
I called again.
Straight to voicemail.
Dad was already reaching for his car keys.
"What happened?""
"Something happened at Brielle's house. I heard a crash.""
Mr. Bennett stood.
"Call emergency services. Don't go inside if there's any indication of danger.""
I called 911 while Dad contacted the local police department. Within minutes, we were driving toward Brielle's neighborhood.
My mind kept returning to her last words.
It was Mom.
The woman who had watched me cry beside a fire pit.
The woman who had spent years telling me that family meant forgiveness.
The woman who had apparently forged my signature to transfer control of a trust I hadn't even known existed.
How could she?
When we reached Brielle's house, the front door was open.
A decorative vase lay shattered across the entrance.
Brielle's handbag was on the floor, its contents scattered across the marble.
"Brielle!"" I shouted.
A noise came from upstairs.
We followed it.
I found her sitting on the bedroom floor, her back against the bed.
Her hair was disheveled, and tears had streaked her makeup.
A laptop lay open beside her.
Dad rushed toward her.
"Are you hurt?""
She shook her head.
"No.""
"What happened?""
"Grant left.""
She pointed toward the closet.
Several hangers were scattered across the floor. Drawers had been pulled open, and an empty watch box sat beside the dresser.
"He took his passport, his laptop, and the safe deposit keys.""
I crouched beside her.
"Did he touch you?""
"No. He just kept shouting.""
Dad looked around.
"Where's the video?""
Brielle wiped her cheeks.
"On the laptop.""
She picked it up and placed it on the bed.
The screen displayed a video file with a date three years earlier.
I stared at the timestamp.
That was the year I had supposedly signed away my rights.
Brielle pressed play.
The video showed a conference room.
A woman sat at a wooden table with a document in front of her.
Her face was partially obscured by the camera angle.
But I recognized the cream blouse.
The gold bracelet.
The small scar near her right thumb.
My mother.
She was holding a pen.
A man stood beside her, speaking quietly.
The audio was poor, but we could hear him.
"Just copy the signature from the employment paperwork.""
Mom hesitated.
"What if she finds out?""
"She won't.""
"Grant, this is my daughter.""
"And I'm trying to protect your family.""
Mom looked down at the document.
Then she signed my name.
I covered my mouth.
The video continued.
Grant moved the paper closer to the camera.
"Good. That's all we need.""
Mom put the pen down.
"What happens to Nia?""
Grant laughed.
"Nothing. She'll never know.""
Brielle stopped the video.
Nobody spoke.
The silence was unbearable.
Dad turned away.
He placed both hands on the dresser and lowered his head.
I couldn't look at him.
I couldn't look at Brielle.
I couldn't look at anything.
My mother had watched someone forge my signature and participated.
Not because she was confused.
Not because she misunderstood.
She had known.
Brielle broke the silence.
"I didn't know.""
I looked at her.
"What?""
"I didn't know Mom signed it. Grant told me you had agreed to step aside.""
"Why didn't you ask me?""
She lowered her eyes.
"Because I didn't want you to get the trust.""
The honesty hurt.
More than I expected.
She wiped her face.
"I thought if you got it, you'd become the person Granddad always wanted. I thought I'd be left with nothing.""
I stood.
"Brielle, I was never trying to take anything from you.""
"You always say that.""
"Because it's true.""
"You got the career. The attention. The letter. The key.""
"I got those things because I worked for them!""
She flinched.
"And I spent years trying to make you understand that I wasn't your enemy.""
Brielle looked down at her hands.
"I know.""
For the first time in my life, she didn't have an insult ready.
Dad picked up the laptop.
"This video needs to go to Mr. Bennett.""
Brielle nodded.
"There's more.""
She opened another folder.
Inside were screenshots of emails between Grant and Mom.
One message was dated three weeks before the amendment was filed.
*From: Grant Whitmore*
Evelyn, once the amendment is recorded, Robert won't be able to interfere. We'll move the property interests into the holding company and settle the outstanding loans.
Mom's reply was brief.
And Nia?
Grant answered:
She won't have a claim if the waiver is in place.
I read it twice.
Then I noticed another email.
It was from Mom.
I don't want Nia hurt.
Grant replied:
Then don't tell her.
Brielle closed the laptop.
"That's when I realized something was wrong.""
I stared at her.
"When?""
"Last month. Grant started asking me to sign additional documents. He said the trust needed restructuring.""
"And you signed them?""
She nodded.
"Some of them.""
Dad looked at her sharply.
"Which ones?""
"I don't know. I didn't read everything.""
His expression hardened.
"Brielle, this is serious.""
"I know!""
She began crying again.
"I know, Dad. I know.""
A police officer appeared at the bedroom door.
"Mr. Carter?""
Dad stepped outside to speak with him.
I stayed with Brielle.
For several minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then she reached toward my hand.
I pulled it back.
She looked at me.
"I deserve that.""
I didn't answer.
"I know I hurt you. I know what I did to your dress was awful.""
"Why did you do it?""
She looked toward the window.
"Because you were happy.""
I frowned.
"What?""
"You walked into that house with that dress, smiling like you finally had something that was yours. And I hated it.""
I sat down.
She continued.
"Grant and I were having problems. His business was falling apart. We were behind on payments, and I was pretending everything was perfect.""
She laughed bitterly.
"I had a closet full of designer clothes and couldn't sleep at night because I was terrified the bank would take our house.""
I looked at her.
"So you burned my dress?""
"I wanted you to feel small.""
"Why?""
"Because you made me feel small without even trying.""
I shook my head.
"I never wanted to compete with you.""
"I know that now.""
She looked at me.
"After Grant left, I went through his messages. He'd been planning to leave me for months. He used my name on some of the loan documents. He told me everything was temporary.""
I felt a strange mixture of anger and pity.
"You still chose to lie for him.""
"I thought he loved me.""
I stood.
"Brielle, you don't get to destroy someone else's life because yours is falling apart.""
She nodded.
"I know.""
Dad returned.
"Grant's vehicle has been located.""
"Where?"" Brielle asked.
"At the airport parking facility.""
Her face went pale.
"He's leaving?""
"The police are looking into it.""
Dad looked at the laptop.
"We need to get this evidence to Mr. Bennett.""
Brielle handed him the computer.
Then she looked at me.
"Nia?""
I turned.
"I need to tell you something else.""
"What?""
She hesitated.
"Mom called me last night.""
My chest tightened.
"What did she say?""
"She told me to destroy the original trust agreement.""
Dad stopped moving.
"Why?""
Brielle swallowed.
"Because she said if anyone found the original, they'd discover what she and Grant had really done.""
I stared at her.
"Where is it?""
Brielle looked toward the closet.
"In the safe deposit box.""
"Which one?""
She shook her head.
"I don't know the number. Grant kept the keys.""
Dad took a slow breath.
"Then we need to find him.""
Brielle suddenly reached for my arm.
"Wait.""
I looked at her.
She opened a drawer and removed a folded piece of paper.
It was a bank receipt.
At the top was the name of a private storage facility.
Below it was a box number.
And beside the box number was a handwritten note.
If anything happens, give this to Nia.
The handwriting belonged to my grandfather.
I looked up.
Brielle was crying again.
"Grant never knew that note was there.""
Dad examined it.
"How did you get this?""
"Granddad gave it to me before he died.""
I stared at her.
"You had this all along?""
She nodded.
"Yes.""
"Why didn't you tell us?""
Her voice broke.
"Because I was afraid the truth would mean I had to give everything back.""
I looked at the note.
Then at my sister.
For years, Brielle had believed that keeping something made her powerful.
Now she was finally discovering the cost.
And the most important document in our family's history was waiting inside a locked box.
But when Dad called the storage facility, the manager gave him an answer none of us expected.
The box had already been opened.
May you like
Three days earlier.
And the person who signed the access register was my mother.
