Chapter 6 - Mama's Last PlanArthur took us to a secure property outside Montreal.
There, he told us everything.
The fraud scheme had been larger than anyone knew.
Billions had disappeared.
Arthur had evidence.
But he had never released it because doing so would expose his family.
Mama had been his partner.
She hid documents.
Moved money.
Created false identities.
And protected us.
The flour tin was their emergency fund.
The $18,940 was the last amount Mama had kept hidden.
“But why leave it for me?”
Arthur looked at me.
“Because you were the only one who would ask questions.”
I smiled through tears.
“Julian helped you.”
“Yes.”
“He risked everything.”
“Yes.”
I looked at my brother.
He shrugged.
“I wasn't exactly brave.”
I laughed.
For the first time since Mama's funeral, I laughed.
Then Arthur handed me another envelope.
“This is from your mother.”
I opened it.
My Elena,
If you're reading this, you finally know.
I'm sorry I kept the truth from you.
But I needed you to live without fear.
Arthur loved you. Julian loved you. Rebecca loved you.
We all made mistakes trying to protect one another.
But there is one thing I need you to understand.
Family is not always the people who tell you the truth first. Sometimes family is the people who carry the truth alone so you don't have to.
I cried.
The letter continued.
The money is yours.
Not because you found it.
Because it was always meant to help you build the life you wanted.
Don't spend it proving anything to anyone.
Use it to live.
At the bottom was one final sentence.
And forgive your brother. He was afraid.
I looked at Julian.
He was crying.
I closed the letter.
“I forgive you.”
He nodded.
“Thank you.”
But the story wasn't over.
Arthur had one final piece of evidence.
A recording.
It contained conversations between the executives who had orchestrated the fraud.
Names.
Dates.
Accounts.
Everything.
And one name appeared repeatedly.
A name we all knew.
My mother's name.
I stared at Arthur.
“Why is Mama mentioned?”
His expression became grim.
“Because they believed she had the original evidence.”
“Did she?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Arthur looked at me.
“She never told me.”
I suddenly remembered the flour tin.
The desk.
May you like
The floorboards.
Maybe Mama had left one final clue.
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