Chapter 3: My Mother’s Secret
I couldn’t breathe.
The ballroom disappeared.
The voices disappeared.
All I could see were the words written in my mother’s handwriting.
*Isaiah cannot know the truth yet.*
My fingers tightened around the paper.
“What truth?””
Nobody answered.
My father looked at Daniel.
“What did you find?””
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“Not everything.””
That answer made me angry.
“Everyone keeps saying that.””
I looked between them.
“My whole life, people have decided what I can handle.””
My father stepped forward.
“Brianna—”
“No.””
My voice cracked.
“But I’m not a child anymore.””
The room watched silently.
I didn’t care.
I was done being protected from my own life.
Daniel sighed.
“Your mother discovered financial irregularities inside the foundation.””
My eyebrows lowered.
“What kind?””
“Money was being moved through private companies.””
My father looked shocked.
“That’s impossible.””
Daniel looked at him.
“That’s what I thought.””
The words hit harder.
Because if Daniel believed something was wrong, it meant something was very wrong.
My father built the foundation on honesty.
He had rejected business deals because they didn’t feel right.
He had always told me:
“Character is what you do when nobody is watching.””
Now someone had been watching.
And stealing.
“Who?”” I asked.
Daniel didn’t answer immediately.
Then he looked toward the crowd.
Toward the board members.
My stomach dropped.
“No.””
My father followed his gaze.
And his face changed.
Because he understood.
Someone close.
Someone trusted.
A person who had access.
Brielle suddenly stepped forward.
“This is becoming ridiculous.””
Everyone looked at her.
She smiled.
But it was forced.
“Are we really going to accuse people based on an old letter from someone who isn’t here to explain herself?””
My father’s expression hardened.
“Be careful.””
Brielle lifted her hands.
“I’m just saying facts matter.””
Daniel looked at her.
“Interesting that you know about the letter.””
Her face froze.
“I don’t.””
“You mentioned it was from someone who wasn’t here.””
A silence followed.
A small mistake.
But enough.
My father noticed.
So did I.
Brielle recovered quickly.
“I meant your wife.””
Nobody spoke.
But the damage was done.
She knew too much.
After the gala ended, my father drove me home.
Neither of us spoke for ten minutes.
Finally, he said:
“I’m sorry.””
I looked out the window.
“For what?””
“For making you feel like you had to prove yourself.””
I swallowed.
“I didn’t want your money.””
“I know.””
“I wanted to know if people would respect me without it.””
He nodded.
“And?””
I thought about Brielle.
The guests.
The whispers.
The broken glass.
“I learned the truth.””
He gripped the steering wheel.
“Which is?””
I looked at him.
“Some people only respect what they can benefit from.””
The next morning, Daniel arrived at our house.
He looked exhausted.
He placed a laptop on the table.
“I found something else.””
My father stood.
“What now?””
Daniel turned the screen toward us.
An email appeared.
Sent six months ago.
The sender’s name made my blood run cold.
Because it belonged to someone I trusted.
Someone who had hugged me at Christmas.
Someone who had told me they loved me.
May you like
Daniel whispered:
“Brianna, you need to see who was really behind this.””
