Chương 7
The amounts were small.
The explanation was normal.
The person attached to them was trusted.
That was how people got away with things.
Not by hiding everything.
By making each piece look harmless.
I pulled out my phone and called Harold.
He answered after three rings.
"Maya?"
His voice sounded tired.
Not surprised.
That bothered me.
"Did you know?"
A pause.
The kind that happened before someone decided which truth to tell.
"Know what?"
I looked at the papers.
"Your name is on the account."
Silence.
The silence was an answer.
I stood up.
"Harold."
"I can explain."
The words hit me harder than if he had denied it.
"Explain what?"
He exhaled.
"I should have told you."
My hand tightened around the phone.
"Told me what?"
Another pause.
Then he said quietly, "Your father asked me to create that account."
I froze.
"What?"
"He asked me to."
"Why?"
"Because he was trying to figure out where the money was going."
I sat back down.
The anger shifted.
Not gone.
Just confused.
"He put the account in your name?"
"No."
His answer came quickly.
"Not exactly."
I hated that phrase.
Not exactly was becoming the official language of my family.
"What does that mean?"
"I helped him track it."
I looked at the records again.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
"Because your father asked me not to."
That stopped me.
"My father?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
Harold's voice lowered.
"Because he was afraid you would confront the person before he had proof."
I closed my eyes.
"Who?"
He didn't answer immediately.
That scared me more than anything.
"Harold."
"I don't know if I should say it over the phone."
"Why?"
"Because once you know, you can't unknow it."
I looked around the empty office.
The walls.
The old photos.
The place where Dad had built his entire life.
"Tell me."
He sighed.
"Your father suspected Trish."
I already knew that.
"What else?"
"He also suspected someone else."
My heart started beating faster.
"Who?"
Harold didn't answer.
The front door of the diner opened.
The bell rang.
I looked toward the office window.
A shadow moved across the front counter.
I couldn't see the person's face.
"Harold, someone is here."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
The figure stopped near the counter.
Then my phone buzzed.
A text message appeared.
From Cole.
Maya, please don't be alone tonight.
I stared at the message.
Then at the person standing outside the office.
"Harold."
"I'm coming back."
"No."
I don't know why I said it.
Maybe because I needed to know I could handle one thing by myself.
Maybe because I was tired of everyone arriving with information I didn't ask for.
"I need to know who this is."
I hung up.
The office door opened.
It wasn't a stranger.
It was my mother-in-law-to-be.
Elaine Bennett.
Cole's mother.
She stepped inside slowly.
She looked exhausted.
Not angry.
Not dramatic.
Just exhausted.
That almost made me more nervous.
"I thought you might be here."
I didn't move.
"How did you know?"
She glanced toward the diner.
"Your father used to tell me this was the place you went when you didn't know what else to do."
That hurt.
Because it was true.
"Why are you here?"
She looked at the papers.
Then at me.
"I came because I owe you an apology."
I laughed quietly.
It was becoming a habit.
"Everyone owes me an apology today."
She accepted that.
"I know."
She sat down without asking.
"I was wrong about you."
I stayed standing.
"About what?"
"When Trish told me you were trying to take advantage of the situation, I believed her."
The honesty surprised me.
"Why?"
Elaine looked down at her hands.
"My sister has always been good at sounding like the injured person."
That sentence carried years behind it.
"You knew?"
"Not everything."
She looked toward the window.
"Trish and I grew up together."
"I know."
"No, you know the version people tell at holidays."
She rubbed her thumb over a ring on her finger.
"The truth is, Trish has always been afraid of losing control."
I thought about the papers.
The threats.
The wedding.
"That doesn't excuse what she did."
"No."
Elaine looked directly at me.
"It doesn't."
The agreement surprised me.
People usually defended family.
Even when they knew family was wrong.
"I need to ask you something."
"What?"
"Did my sister tell you why your father changed his estate?"
I frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Elaine looked confused.
"She didn't tell you?"
A cold feeling moved through me.
"Tell me what?"
She reached into her purse.
Pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"I found this in my sister's car after she left the wedding."
My stomach tightened.
"You searched her car?"
"No."
Elaine looked uncomfortable.
"She left her purse at my house last night. I was putting it away when I saw it."
She handed me the paper.
I unfolded it.
It was not a legal document.
It was a handwritten note.
Dad's handwriting.
Again.
But this one wasn't addressed to me.
It was addressed to Trish.
Trish,
I know you think I don't see what is happening.
I do.
I have given you chances to tell me the truth because I hoped you would choose honesty before I was forced to choose for you.
My fingers went cold.
I kept reading.
The diner was never the problem.
The money can be replaced.
Trust cannot.
If you cannot admit what happened, I will make sure Maya knows everything after I'm gone.
I looked up.
Elaine's face had changed.
"What happened?"
I looked back at the note.
The answer was somewhere inside it.
Not just who took the money.
Not just who lied.
Something bigger.
Something Dad had been trying to protect me from.
And suddenly the question was no longer whether Trish had betrayed my father.
The question was how long my father had known.
The question was how long my father had known.
May you like
I read the note again.
Then again.
