Chapter 2: The Secret She Wasn't Supposed to Know
"Before anyone makes another accusation," Patricia announced, "I think we should establish what kind of woman Marcus is about to marry.""
Marcus moved toward her.
"Put it down.""
Patricia raised the paper.
"Don't interrupt me. I've spent months trying to protect you.""
"Protect me from what? The woman I love?""
"From a lifetime of problems!""
The words echoed through the church.
I stood frozen beneath Marcus's jacket.
My wedding dress suddenly felt too tight around my ribs.
I had imagined difficult moments on my wedding day. A broken zipper. A late florist. Perhaps a nervous speech.
I had never imagined standing barefoot on the altar while my future mother-in-law displayed my private medical information like evidence in a courtroom.
My grandmother reached the front.
"Patricia, give me that document.""
Patricia turned toward her.
"You're the reason this girl thinks she can get away with anything.""
Eleanor stopped.
"What did you just say?""
"She's been living off your sympathy for years. You have encouraged her to believe that everyone must accommodate her.""
I felt something inside me snap.
"My grandmother has never asked anyone to accommodate me.""
Patricia looked at me.
"Then perhaps you should have told your fiancé the truth.""
Marcus stepped forward.
"She told me everything.""
"Everything?"" Patricia repeated.
She unfolded the second page.
"Did she tell you about the additional tests?""
Marcus stared at the document.
"What tests?""
I felt the room tilt.
There had been additional tests.
My doctor had ordered them after my initial treatment reaction. Some were routine. Others were to investigate why the hair loss had been so severe.
But I had told Marcus about every appointment.
Or so I thought.
Patricia pointed at the paper.
"Here. Read it.""
Marcus took the document from her.
His eyes moved across the page.
I watched his expression carefully.
First confusion.
Then disbelief.
Then something that looked dangerously close to anger.
"What is this?"" he asked.
Patricia folded her arms.
"Your future wife's medical expenses.""
"These aren't expenses.""
"Read the bottom.""
He did.
Then he looked at me.
"Emily, what is this authorization?""
I stepped toward him.
"I don't know.""
Patricia laughed.
"Convenient.""
I reached for the document.
Marcus handed it to me.
The paper was a photocopy of a financial authorization form, supposedly signed by me, allowing someone to access certain medical and insurance information.
At the bottom was my name.
Emily Harper.
The signature looked almost exactly like mine.
But I had never signed it.
"Where did you get this?"" I asked.
Patricia adjusted one of her pearl earrings.
"From the insurance office.""
"That's impossible.""
"Why?""
"Because I never authorized you to access my information.""
Patricia smiled.
"Perhaps you should ask your grandmother how many things she has signed on your behalf.""
I turned toward Eleanor.
Her face had gone pale.
"Grandma?""
She stared at the paper.
Then she looked at Patricia.
"Where did you get that?""
Patricia's expression changed.
For the first time, she seemed less confident.
"That isn't important.""
"It is very important," Eleanor replied.
Marcus looked between them.
"Mom, answer the question.""
Patricia lifted her chin.
"Your grandmother-in-law's little charity project has been going on for years. I simply discovered where the money was coming from.""
My grandmother went completely still.
"What money?""
"The medical assistance fund.""
I blinked.
"What are you talking about?""
Patricia looked almost pleased that I had asked.
"Your grandmother has been telling everyone she has been helping you through your treatment. But I discovered that she has been moving money into an account connected to your medical care.""
I stared at Eleanor.
She lowered her eyes.
"Grandma?""
She reached for my hand.
"Emily, not here.""
My chest tightened.
"Please don't tell me there's something else I don't know.""
Eleanor squeezed my fingers.
"There are things I should have explained sooner.""
Patricia gave a short laugh.
"How touching.""
Marcus turned toward his mother.
"Enough.""
"No, Marcus. You need to understand what you're marrying into. Emily has a medical condition, her grandmother has financial secrets, and now you're standing here shaving your head like some ridiculous performance.""
Marcus stepped closer.
"You humiliated my wife.""
"We aren't married yet.""
"That was your last chance to pretend you cared about that.""
His mother flinched.
I looked at him.
"Marcus, please.""
He turned immediately.
"What is it?""
I swallowed.
"I need to know why your mother has my medical records.""
His face softened.
"I don't know.""
"Someone gave them to her.""
"I'll find out.""
Patricia interrupted.
"You're making this sound criminal. I was concerned.""
"Concerned people don't steal medical records," Marcus replied.
A man in the second row stood.
It was Mr. Collins, the family attorney who had been invited to the ceremony.
He had known Marcus's father for decades and had helped settle the estate after his death.
"Patricia," he said, "I would strongly advise you not to make any further statements until we understand where those documents originated.""
She turned toward him.
"Don't start, Robert.""
"I'm serious.""
"Of course you are. You've always been Eleanor's favorite.""
Robert ignored the remark and approached the altar.
He examined the photocopy.
Then he looked at the signature.
"Emily, have you ever seen this document?""
"No.""
"Have you ever authorized Patricia to obtain your medical information?""
"Absolutely not.""
He nodded slowly.
"Then we need to preserve this document and determine how it was obtained.""
Patricia snatched it back.
"You can't take my property.""
Robert looked at her.
"Then you should have no objection to having its origin investigated.""
She tucked the papers into her handbag.
Marcus watched her.
"Mom, what exactly have you done?""
Patricia's mouth tightened.
"I have done what your father would have wanted.""
Marcus went pale.
"Don't bring Dad into this.""
"Your father worked his entire life to build something for this family. He would never have wanted you throwing everything away for a woman who can't even be honest about her health.""
The church fell silent again.
Marcus took a slow breath.
"My father loved Emily.""
Patricia scoffed.
"Your father barely knew her.""
"He met her three weeks before he died. He told me she was the first woman he'd seen make me genuinely happy in years.""
"That was before all this.""
Marcus stared at his mother.
"Before what? Before she lost her hair? Before she needed treatment? Before you decided she wasn't good enough?""
Patricia looked away.
I could barely hear the words anymore.
My attention had returned to Eleanor.
She was gripping the edge of the front pew with both hands.
Something was wrong.
Not just embarrassment.
Fear.
"Grandma," I whispered.
She turned.
"Let's go home.""
"Not yet.""
"Please.""
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she leaned closer.
"There is something you need to understand about Patricia. She didn't discover your medical records by accident.""
I felt cold.
"What do you mean?""
Eleanor glanced toward the pew where Patricia had been sitting.
"She has been asking questions about you since before Marcus proposed.""
"Why?""
My grandmother hesitated.
Then she said something that made my stomach turn.
"Because she believes your mother's money belongs to her family.""
I stared at her.
My mother had died when I was eleven.
I had grown up believing there was nothing left behind except a few photographs, a small collection of jewelry, and the memories Eleanor had carefully preserved.
"What money?"" I whispered.
Eleanor's eyes filled.
"Your mother left you something, sweetheart.""
"What?""
Before she could answer, Patricia stepped forward.
"Don't you dare.""
My grandmother straightened.
For the first time that morning, I saw the woman who had raised me after my mother's funeral.
The woman who had fought insurance companies, sat beside hospital beds, and worked two jobs to make sure I never felt abandoned.
"You're finished deciding what this girl deserves," Eleanor said.
Patricia's face reddened.
"That money was never supposed to go to her.""
Marcus turned sharply.
"What money?""
Eleanor looked at him.
Then she looked at me.
And finally, she reached into her handbag.
She removed a small, worn envelope with my name written across the front in my mother's handwriting.
My knees nearly gave way.
I hadn't seen that handwriting in nineteen years.
"Grandma," I whispered.
She placed the envelope in my palm.
"Your mother asked me to give you this when the time was right.""
My fingers trembled.
"Why now?""
Eleanor looked toward Patricia.
"Because I think the time has come.""
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of my mother holding me as a baby.
Behind it was a letter.
But before I could unfold it, Patricia stepped toward me.
"Emily, don't.""
I looked up.
Her face was no longer angry.
It was frightened.
"Why?"" I asked.
She swallowed.
"Because you don't know what you're getting yourself into.""
Marcus moved beside me.
"Then perhaps you should explain.""
Patricia looked at the envelope.
May you like
Then she whispered five words.
"Your mother wasn't who you think.""
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