Chapter 6: The Night My Mother Died
I read the message three times.
Your mother didn't die from the illness.
The library suddenly felt too warm.
I looked toward the glass entrance.
People walked past carrying books and coffee cups. A little boy laughed near the children's section. An elderly man read a newspaper beside the window.
Ordinary life continued.
But mine had just split into two pieces.
Before that message.
And after it.
"Olivia?""
Mrs. Collins touched my arm.
I turned the phone toward her.
She read the words.
Her face drained of color.
"Who sent this?""
"I don't know.""
"Don't reply.""
"Someone knows what we're doing.""
She quickly gathered the papers and pushed them back into the envelope.
"We need to leave.""
I stood.
"Mrs. Collins, do you think Mom was murdered?""
She grabbed my hand.
"I don't know, sweetheart.""
"But you said she called you that night.""
"Yes.""
"What time?""
"Just after nine.""
I checked the photograph of the email.
My mother had sent it at 8:43 p.m.
Less than thirty minutes before calling Mrs. Collins.
"What did she sound like?""
Mrs. Collins looked down.
"Frightened.""
My throat tightened.
"What exactly did she say?""
She closed her eyes.
"She said, 'I was right about Vanessa. But Daniel knows more than he's telling me.''"
I stopped breathing.
"She said that?""
Mrs. Collins nodded.
"Then she asked me to get something from her desk.""
"What?""
"A blue folder.""
I looked at the brown envelope in my hands.
"Was it the same folder?""
"No. This one was brown. The blue folder disappeared.""
"Did you ever find it?""
Mrs. Collins shook her head.
"No.""
I stared at her.
"Then someone took it.""
"Yes.""
I thought about the storage room.
The desk.
The locked drawer.
The documents Vanessa had been desperate to recover.
Perhaps the blue folder contained something more dangerous.
Something my mother had discovered before she died.
My phone rang.
Dad.
I answered immediately.
"Where are you?""
"At the library.""
"Stay there. I'm coming to get you.""
"Why?""
"Because I need to speak with you.""
"About Mom?""
There was silence.
Then he said, "Yes.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"What happened the night she died?""
Another silence.
"Olivia, we'll talk when I get there.""
"Did she die from her illness?""
His breathing changed.
"Who told you that?""
I looked at Mrs. Collins.
"Someone sent me a message.""
"Show me the message when I arrive. Don't answer anyone else.""
He ended the call.
I stared at the screen.
Mrs. Collins stood beside me.
"Sweetheart, there's something I've been afraid to tell you.""
I turned.
"What?""
She looked directly into my eyes.
"The night your mother died, I saw Vanessa leaving the house.""
My heart stopped.
"What?""
"She was carrying a blue folder.""
I grabbed the edge of the table.
"Did Dad see her?""
Mrs. Collins shook her head.
"I don't know. But I remember something else.""
"What?""
"Your mother was supposed to be alone that evening. Your father had told me he was attending a business dinner.""
I frowned.
"Then why was Vanessa there?""
Mrs. Collins lowered her voice.
"Because she wasn't supposed to be there.""
Dad arrived twenty minutes later.
He found us near the library entrance.
His eyes moved from Mrs. Collins to the envelope in my hands.
"Let's go.""
I didn't move.
"Not until you answer my questions.""
He looked around.
"Olivia, this isn't the place.""
"Then where? At home? Where Vanessa can listen?""
His jaw tightened.
"Your stepmother isn't involved in this conversation.""
"She was involved the night Mom died.""
His expression changed.
Mrs. Collins looked away.
Dad stared at me.
"Where did you hear that?""
"Mrs. Collins saw her leaving the house with a blue folder.""
He looked at the housekeeper.
"Is that true?""
Mrs. Collins nodded.
Dad closed his eyes.
For a moment, he seemed unable to stand.
Then he opened them.
"Get in the car.""
I crossed my arms.
"Tell me first.""
He lowered his voice.
"Your mother was very sick that night. She had been taking medication, and she wasn't feeling well.""
"That's not what I asked.""
"Olivia—"
"Did Vanessa visit her?""
He didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"Did you know?""
Dad looked toward the parking lot.
Then he said quietly:
"Yes.""
My stomach dropped.
"Why?""
"Because I asked her to.""
I stared at him.
"What?""
He ran a hand through his hair.
"Your mother and Vanessa had an argument earlier that evening. I wanted Vanessa to apologize.""
Mrs. Collins shook her head.
"That isn't what happened, sir.""
Dad turned sharply.
"What?""
"Your wife called me before she died. She was frightened.""
"She was ill.""
"She was asking for help.""
Dad's face hardened.
"Mrs. Collins, you don't know what you're talking about.""
"I know what I heard.""
I looked between them.
"What did Mom say?""
Neither answered.
Then Dad opened the car door.
"Olivia. Get in.""
I stood my ground.
"Did you see Mom that night?""
His eyes met mine.
"Yes.""
"When?""
He swallowed.
"At approximately nine-thirty.""
"Was she alive?""
"Of course she was.""
"Was Vanessa there?""
He looked away.
I felt my heart pounding.
"Was she?""
"Yes.""
I took a step backward.
"Then what happened?""
Dad's voice became unsteady.
"Your mother had an episode. She collapsed. We called emergency services.""
"Who called?""
"I did.""
"Where was Vanessa?""
He looked at me.
"With me.""
Mrs. Collins began crying.
I couldn't understand why.
Then Dad said something that made my knees weak.
"Your mother was conscious when the ambulance arrived.""
I stared at him.
"Then why didn't she survive?""
He closed his eyes.
"Her condition deteriorated during transport.""
"Did she say anything?""
He didn't answer.
I stepped closer.
"Did she ask for me?""
His lips trembled.
"Yes.""
My eyes filled.
"What did she say?""
Dad looked at me.
"She asked me to protect you.""
I covered my mouth.
"And did you?""
He looked down.
Neither of us spoke.
Then he reached for my shoulder.
I stepped away.
"Don't touch me.""
He lowered his hand.
"I know you're angry.""
"Angry?""
My voice cracked.
"You've spent three years telling me to accept Vanessa. You let her throw away Mom's things. You let her treat me like I didn't belong here. And now you're telling me Mom asked you to protect me?""
His eyes filled.
"Olivia, I made mistakes.""
"You made choices.""
He nodded slowly.
"Yes.""
I turned toward Mrs. Collins.
"Let's go.""
Dad stepped in front of us.
"Where?""
"Somewhere I can think.""
"You're coming home.""
I looked at him.
"Is Vanessa there?""
He hesitated.
That was enough.
I walked past him.
Mrs. Collins took me to her small apartment.
It was above a bakery on the east side of town.
The kitchen smelled of cinnamon and fresh bread. A tiny television played quietly in the living room.
Her husband, George, greeted us at the door.
He was a broad-shouldered man with silver hair and kind eyes.
"Olivia," he said gently.
"Come in, sweetheart.""
I sat on their old sofa.
Mrs. Collins brought me tea.
For several minutes, nobody asked questions.
Then George placed a small device on the coffee table.
It was an old digital voice recorder.
My heart skipped.
"What's that?""
Mrs. Collins sat beside me.
"I found it in a box of your mother's belongings.""
I stared at the recorder.
"Is that the one Mom used?""
"I think so.""
She pressed a button.
A faint crackle came from the speaker.
Then my mother's voice filled the room.
"Testing. One, two.""
I stopped breathing.
It was her.
The same soft voice.
The same gentle rhythm.
I reached for the recorder.
"Play it again.""
Mrs. Collins pressed another button.
The recording continued.
"If something happens to me, I want Olivia to know that I loved her more than anything in this world.""
My eyes filled immediately.
"Your father is a good man," Mom continued.
"But he has made a terrible mistake by trusting the wrong person.""
A pause.
Then a sound.
A door closing.
My mother's voice became quieter.
"I found the transfers. I found the account. And I know Vanessa has been using Daniel's signature.""
My stomach tightened.
The recording crackled.
"Daniel says he doesn't know anything. But I saw the messages.""
A second voice appeared.
A man's voice.
My father's.
"Claire, please. We can discuss this tomorrow.""
My mother sounded frightened.
"Tomorrow will be too late.""
"You're exhausted.""
"Daniel, she's stealing from the company.""
"I said I'll handle it.""
"Then why are you protecting her?""
Silence.
Then my father's voice again.
"Because you don't understand what she knows.""
I leaned forward.
"What?""
My mother spoke.
"What does that mean, Daniel?""
The recording suddenly became distorted.
A chair scraped.
Then another voice spoke.
Vanessa.
"Daniel, we need to go.""
My entire body went cold.
My mother answered.
"You're not leaving with those documents.""
A loud crash followed.
Then the recording ended.
I stared at the recorder.
Mrs. Collins looked horrified.
"That's all?""
I pressed the button again.
Nothing.
"Is there another file?""
She shook her head.
"That's everything I found.""
I looked at the device.
My father's voice kept repeating in my mind.
Because you don't understand what she knows.
What did Vanessa know?
What had my mother discovered?
And why had Dad protected her?
My phone vibrated.
A new message.
This time, it came from Dad.
Please come home. Vanessa has left.
I stared at it.
Another message followed.
I need to tell you the truth about your mother.
I didn't reply.
Then Mrs. Collins' husband walked into the room carrying a large envelope.
"Claire asked me to keep this safe," he said.
I looked up.
"What?""
George placed the envelope on the table.
"Your mother came here two weeks before she died. She asked me to hide it in case anything happened to her.""
Mrs. Collins covered her mouth.
"You never told me.""
George looked at his wife.
"She made me promise.""
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter and a small USB drive.
The letter began:
Olivia, if this reaches you, it means I couldn't tell you everything myself.
I swallowed.
Your grandfather didn't leave the family estate to your father. He left it to you. But there is a condition that your father has never told you about.
I turned the page.
Daniel was given control of the business only because he promised to protect your inheritance. If he ever used the company or your trust for personal gain, his authority would automatically end.
I looked at George.
"Does this mean Dad could lose the company?""
George nodded.
"Your grandfather was very specific.""
I continued reading.
There is a recording on this drive. It contains the conversation that changed everything.
My hands trembled.
I plugged the USB drive into George's laptop.
A single audio file appeared.
*OCTOBER_14_FINAL.mp3*
I clicked it.
At first, there was only static.
Then my mother's voice.
"Daniel, tell me the truth. Did you give Vanessa access to the trust?""
My father answered.
"Yes.""
I stopped breathing.
"Why?""
"She said she could save the company.""
"With Olivia's money?""
"Claire, listen—"
"No. You listen to me. That money belongs to our daughter.""
My father's voice became angry.
"I was trying to keep everything from collapsing!""
"And you signed documents without telling me?""
"I had no choice.""
My mother began crying.
"Daniel, what have you done?""
Then came a sentence that made my entire body freeze.
My father said:
"Vanessa told me if I didn't help her, she would expose what happened the night your father died.""
Silence.
Then my mother whispered:
"Your father didn't die naturally, Daniel. He was murdered.""
The recording continued.
And suddenly, another voice interrupted.
Vanessa.
"That's enough, Claire.""
A loud crash followed.
Then my mother screamed.
"Get away from me!""
The recording ended.
I sat completely still.
My mother had discovered something about my grandfather's death.
My father knew.
Vanessa knew.
And the truth had been hidden for years.
I slowly turned toward Mrs. Collins.
"Who killed my grandfather?""
She was crying now.
"I don't know, sweetheart.""
My phone rang.
Dad.
I answered.
He didn't even say hello.
"Olivia, where did you get that recording?""
I froze.
"How do you know about it?""
His voice broke.
"Because I thought it had been destroyed.""
I looked at the laptop.
Then at the USB drive.
"Why?""
My father took a shaky breath.
Then he said:
"Because the voice you're about to hear next is the reason your mother is dead.""
I stared at the screen.
The audio file had stopped.
But beneath it, another file had appeared.
A second recording.
Created at 9:17 p.m. on the night my mother died.
May you like
And its title was a name.
*VANESSA_BENNETT.*
