Chapter 4 - The Money Nobody Knew AboutI couldn't speak.
My mother sat on the couch with her hands clasped together.
“How much?”
She didn't answer.
“Mom.”
She finally whispered,
“Almost two hundred thousand dollars.”
Lucille gasped.
I stared at my mother.
“You stole from me?”
“No.”
“You just said—”
“I borrowed it.”
I laughed.
“You borrowed two hundred thousand dollars without telling me?”
“I intended to repay you.”
“When?”
She looked down.
“I don't know.”
I walked toward the window.
My mind was racing.
The trust had been established by my father.
He had told me it would eventually become mine.
I had never checked it.
I trusted my mother to handle the paperwork.
That trust suddenly felt like a knife.
“Why?”
My mother began crying.
“I needed it.”
“For what?”
She didn't answer.
Sarah did.
“For Chloe.”
Chloe looked up.
“What?”
Sarah shook her head.
“Mom paid your debts.”
Chloe stared at her.
“What debts?”
“Credit cards.”
“Mom?”
“I was trying to help.”
Chloe began crying.
“I didn't know.”
“You weren't supposed to.”
I looked at Jessica.
“And you?”
Jessica lowered her head.
“Mom paid for my house deposit.”
I stared at her.
“And Sarah?”
Sarah nodded.
“Medical bills.”
I rubbed my face.
My mother had been secretly using my father's trust to rescue my sisters.
And when the money ran low, she blamed Lucille.
I suddenly understood.
She hadn't just wanted to control my marriage.
She had needed me financially dependent.
If Lucille and I built our own life, my mother would lose access to me.
I looked at her.
“Why didn't you ask me?”
“Because I knew you'd say no.”
That honesty hurt.
I nodded slowly.
“At least you're finally telling the truth.”
Lucille sat quietly.
I knelt beside her.
“I’m sorry.”
She looked at me.
“For what?”
“For every time I told you my family came first.”
She touched my cheek.
“You didn't know.”
“I should have.”
She shook her head.
“We both made mistakes.”
“No.”
I looked into her eyes.
“I made mine repeatedly.”
That night, I moved our bedroom belongings into the guest room.
Not because I wanted distance from Lucille.
Because I wanted distance from my mother.
I told my sisters they could stay until morning.
Then they needed to leave.
My mother looked at me.
“David.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“I love you.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“But I won't let you destroy my marriage to keep yourself comfortable.”
She nodded.
“I understand.”
I wasn't sure she did.
The next morning, I called an attorney.
Then an accountant.
Then the bank.
The truth was worse than I expected.
The trust had been mismanaged.
Withdrawals had been made under vague descriptions.
Several transactions were connected to accounts belonging to my sisters.
But there was something else.
A withdrawal had been made only two weeks before.
Forty thousand dollars.
I looked at the transaction.
Recipient:
L. Bennett Medical Services.
My blood froze.
Lucille.
I turned toward her.
“Lucy.”
She looked up.
“What?”
“Did you receive forty thousand dollars?”
Her face went pale.
“No.”
I showed her the transaction.
She shook her head.
“I've never seen that.”
The attorney frowned.
“Then someone is using her name.”
My mother suddenly entered the room.
She saw the screen.
Her face changed.
“That's impossible.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
She walked closer.
“That payment wasn't supposed to happen.”
I felt the room go cold.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You just said it wasn't supposed to happen.”
My mother covered her mouth.
Then whispered,
“I made that transfer.”
“Why?”
“I was told to.”
“By who?”
She didn't answer.
I stood.
“Mom.”
She looked terrified.
“Who told you?”
Her lips trembled.
Then she whispered a name.
Not Sarah.
Not Jessica.
Not Chloe.
Not Lucille.
Someone outside the family.
Someone I had never considered.
“Your father's old business partner.”
I frowned.
“My father is dead.”
“I know.”
“What does his business partner want?”
My mother looked at the attorney.
Then at me.
“He says your father left something behind.”
“What?”
“A second trust.”
The attorney's face tightened.
“What kind of trust?”
My mother whispered,
“One that was supposed to become active when you had your first child.”
I looked at Lucille.
Our baby.
The room went silent.
“Where is it?”
My mother shook her head.
“I don't know.”
“Then why did he contact you?”
She started crying.
“Because he said if I didn't cooperate…”
She stopped.
I waited.
“If I didn't cooperate, he would tell you what really happened to your father.”
I stared at her.
“What really happened?”
She covered her face.
“He wasn't supposed to die that night.”
The room went silent.
My father had died in what everyone called an accident.
A car crash.
A wet road.
A terrible turn.
But my mother had just said something impossible.
He wasn't supposed to die.
I stepped closer.
“What are you saying?”
She whispered,
“Your father was investigating someone.”
“Who?”
My mother looked toward the door.
May you like
Then she said,
“The person who wrote that letter.”
Related Stories
