Chapter 9: The Aunt Who Wasn't Dead
Nobody moved.
I stared at Marianne.
“My aunt?””
She nodded.
“Yes.””
“But my dad said…”
“I know what your father told you.””
Dad stepped forward.
“Marianne, you shouldn't have come here.””
She looked at him.
“You've kept her in the dark for twelve years.””
“I was protecting her.””
“You were protecting yourself.””
Dad flinched.
I looked between them.
“Why was I told you were dead?””
Marianne's eyes filled with tears.
“Because your mother wanted it that way.””
“Why?””
“Because she believed someone was watching the family.””
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
Dad said, “That's not true.””
Marianne turned toward him.
“You know more than you admit.””
“I told you I didn't.””
“You knew about the money.””
“I knew there was a trust.””
“You knew about the records.””
“I knew there were irregularities.””
“You knew your wife was alive after the accident.””
Dad looked at the floor.
“I suspected.””
Marianne's voice hardened.
“You suspected.””
He said nothing.
I felt betrayed all over again.
“Dad.””
He looked at me.
“I didn't know where she was.””
“But you looked for her?””
“Yes.””
“How?””
“Privately.””
“Why privately?””
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
“That whoever frightened your mother would come after you.””
I shook my head.
“You should have told me.””
“You were twelve.””
“I was twelve when Victoria locked me in bathrooms.””
His eyes filled with tears.
“I know.””
“I was twelve when I ate dog food.””
“I know.””
“You know now.””
“Yes.””
“But you didn't know then.””
He looked broken.
“I thought you were safe.””
I pointed at Victoria.
“With her?””
“I trusted the wrong person.””
Victoria laughed bitterly.
“You trusted everyone except yourself.””
Marianne stepped closer to me.
“Emma, your mother didn't disappear because she abandoned you.””
I started crying.
“I know.””
“She left because she believed it was the only way to keep you alive.””
I stared at her.
“Alive?””
“Yes.””
“What was she afraid of?””
Marianne looked at Dad.
Then Mr. Harris.
Then Victoria.
“She discovered that someone had been moving money from your trust.””
I nodded.
“We know.””
“No,” Marianne said.
“You don't know the half of it.””
She opened her coat.
Inside was a thin folder.
She handed it to me.
I opened it.
Bank records.
Property records.
Company transfers.
Names.
Dates.
Amounts.
My eyes widened.
“This is everything?””
“No.””
“What else?””
“The person who took your mother's money wasn't Victoria.””
Victoria stared at her.
“Don't.””
Marianne looked at me.
“Victoria stole from you later.””
I turned toward Victoria.
She looked ashamed.
“But the first theft happened before your mother died.””
Dad's voice was barely audible.
“Who?””
Marianne pointed at the records.
“Your father's business partner.””
Mr. Harris looked at the papers.
“Richard?””
Marianne nodded.
I frowned.
“Who is Richard?””
Dad closed his eyes.
“My former business partner.””
“Former?””
“He died eight years ago.””
Marianne shook her head.
“He didn't.””
Dad looked up sharply.
“What?””
“He's alive.””
Mr. Harris grabbed the folder.
“That’s impossible.””
“I saw him.””
“When?””
“Six months ago.””
Dad's face went white.
Marianne continued.
“Your mother found proof that Richard had been siphoning money from the company and from Emma's trust.””
“So he caused the financial problems?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because he wanted control.””
Dad stared at the records.
“He nearly destroyed me.””
“He nearly destroyed Emma.””
I looked at the documents.
Then I noticed something.
A transfer.
My eyes stopped.
The account receiving the money wasn't Richard's.
It was Victoria's.
I looked at her.
“You said you weren't involved.””
Victoria's lips trembled.
“I wasn't.””
“Then why was money going into your account?””
“I didn't know.””
“You didn't know?””
“Richard told me it was compensation.””
“For what?””
“I don't know.””
Dad stared at her.
“You accepted money from my business partner?””
“I thought it was legitimate.””
“How much?””
She looked away.
“How much?””
“Forty thousand.””
Dad stepped backward.
Marianne shook her head.
“That wasn't the money your mother was looking for.””
I looked at her.
“What was?””
Marianne took another paper from the folder.
“A transfer for $2.4 million.””
The room went silent.
I stared at the number.
“Two point four million?””
“Yes.””
“Where did it go?””
Marianne looked directly at me.
“Your mother hid it.””
“Where?””
“She told me only once.””
I leaned closer.
“Where?””
Marianne hesitated.
Then she whispered,
“She said she put it somewhere no one would ever think to look.””
I looked around the house.
The trust.
The bank records.
The old photograph.
The hidden documents.
Then I remembered something.
My mother had always kept one object beside her.
A small wooden music box.
After she died, it disappeared.
I looked at Dad.
“Where's Mom's music box?””
His face changed.
“What?””
“The music box.””
“I don't know.””
Victoria suddenly spoke.
“I do.””
Everyone turned toward her.
She swallowed.
“Your mother gave it to me.””
“When?””
“The night before the accident.””
My heart pounded.
“Why?””
“She told me to keep it safe.””
“Where is it?””
Victoria looked toward the staircase.
“In your room.””
I ran upstairs.
I tore open drawers.
Moved books.
Pulled clothes from the closet.
Nothing.
Then I saw the small wooden box beneath my bed.
The same box I'd used for my childhood letters.
I pulled it out.
My fingers trembled.
The lid was locked.
I looked underneath.
A tiny key was taped to the bottom.
I unlocked it.
The melody began playing.
A soft, familiar tune.
My mother's favorite song.
Inside was a photograph.
A tiny brass key.
And a folded note.
I opened it.
Only one sentence was written.
*Emma, when you're old enough to understand this, use the key to open the house that belongs to you.*
I stared at the words.
Then I heard Dad behind me.
“Emma…”
I turned.
He was holding another photograph.
His face was white.
“That's not the house we live in.””
“What?””
He showed me the photograph.
It was an old farmhouse.
I recognized it immediately.
It was the place where my mother had taken me every summer when I was little.
The place Dad sold after her death.
Except Dad had never sold it.
Marianne looked at the photograph.
Then at the key in my hand.
“Oh God.””
“What?””
She pointed to the key.
“That opens the basement.””
“Whose basement?””
She looked at my father.
“The house your father told everyone he sold.””
Dad's phone suddenly rang.
He answered.
“Hello?””
His expression changed.
“Who is this?””
A man's voice came through the speaker.
Everyone could hear it.
“Daniel.””
Dad froze.
The voice laughed softly.
“You found the key, didn't you?””
Dad's hand began shaking.
“Richard?””
The voice answered,
“You have twenty-four hours to bring me Emma's trust.””
Then the call ended.
I stared at Dad.
Marianne grabbed my hand.
“Emma, we have to leave.””
May you like
But before anyone could move, the lights in the house went out.
And from downstairs came the sound of the front door opening.
