Chapter 5: The Woman Who Knew Too Much
Victoria left the room.
Not walked.
Not calmly.
She ran.
That alone told me more than any confession could have.
My father followed her toward the hallway.
“Victoria, wait.””
But she didn’t stop.
The woman who always had something to say suddenly had nothing.
Grandma Pearl watched the doorway.
“She’s not afraid of us.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
“She’s afraid of someone else.””
Jonathan gathered the documents back into the folder.
“Your mother suspected there was another person involved.””
My heart sank.
“Another person?””
He nodded.
“Claire believed Victoria was not acting alone.””
The house suddenly felt much larger.
And much darker.
I looked at the empty doorway where Victoria disappeared.
For years, I thought my stepmother simply hated me.
But what if it was something else?
What if I was standing in the middle of a secret I didn’t understand?
My father returned a few minutes later.
His face was exhausted.
“Where is she?”” Jonathan asked.
“She said she needed air.””
Grandma Pearl gave a humorless laugh.
“Of course she did.””
My father looked at her.
“Mom.””
“No, Daniel.””
Pearl’s voice softened slightly.
“You have spent years asking everyone to forgive her before you ever asked what she did.””
My father looked down.
The guilt on his face was almost painful to see.
But guilt was not the same as change.
I had learned that.
Jonathan placed the key back on the table.
“We need to open the safety deposit box tomorrow morning.””
“Tomorrow?”” I asked.
He nodded.
“Claire’s instructions were very specific.””
“What did they say?””
Jonathan looked at me.
“That Emma must hear the truth from the people who helped hide it.””
I frowned.
“People?””
Before he could answer, my father’s phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed.
“What is it?”” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
He simply handed me the phone.
It was a message.
From an old number.
One I recognized immediately.
My mother’s phone number.
My breath stopped.
“That’s impossible.””
My father looked confused.
“Emma?””
I stared at the screen.
The number had been disconnected years ago.
But the message was there.
A photo.
Attached.
I opened it.
It showed my mother standing beside someone.
Someone I knew.
Someone who was supposed to have nothing to do with our family anymore.
Grandma Pearl gasped.
“Where did you get that?””
My father looked at the phone.
“I didn’t.””
The message had only one sentence.
*Ask Victoria why she visited me three months before Claire died.*
The room went silent.
I looked at my grandmother.
She looked terrified.
Not angry.
Not surprised.
Terrified.
“Grandma?””
She slowly sat down.
“Pearl?”” my father asked.
But she didn’t answer.
Her eyes remained fixed on the picture.
Because she knew the person standing beside my mother.
And she knew why that person mattered.
“Tell them,” Jonathan said quietly.
Grandma Pearl looked at him.
“You knew too?””
He nodded.
“I was waiting for her to decide.””
My father stepped forward.
“Decide what?””
Pearl closed her eyes.
Then whispered:
“Whether to protect the dead…”
She opened them.
“…or protect the living.””
I felt a cold wave move through me.
“Grandma, what are you talking about?””
She looked at me.
And I saw something I had never seen before.
Fear.
“Emma, your mother didn’t die believing she was alone.””
My heart pounded.
“What does that mean?””
Pearl reached into her purse.
Slowly.
Carefully.
She pulled out a small envelope.
Another envelope with my mother’s handwriting.
But this one was different.
May you like
Because my name was not written on the front.
Victoria’s name was.
