Chapter 5: Rebecca
Mom couldn't move.
I walked toward the door.
“David, don't.””
I stopped.
“She's your daughter—”
“She isn't my daughter.””
Mom's voice cracked.
“She is your sister.””
I looked at her.
“You just spent forty years keeping us apart.””
“I know.””
“And now she's standing outside your door.””
“I know.””
The knocking came again.
“Mrs. Harper?””
I opened the door.
The woman from the photograph stood on the porch.
Older now, obviously.
She was in her late forties, maybe early fifties. Dark hair streaked with gray. A navy coat. No makeup except a faint trace of lipstick.
She looked directly at me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then her eyes moved past my shoulder.
They landed on Mom.
Mom's face crumpled.
“Rebecca.””
The woman inhaled sharply.
“You remember me.””
Mom gripped the back of a chair.
“How could I forget?””
Rebecca stepped inside.
She didn't hug her.
She didn't even come close.
Instead, she looked at me.
“You're David.””
I nodded.
“Yes.””
“I've seen photographs.””
“From where?””
“Your father.””
My heart jumped.
“My father?””
Rebecca nodded.
“He kept them.””
“Where?””
“In a box.””
“What box?””
She looked toward Mom.
“She knows.””
Mom closed her eyes.
Rebecca gave a bitter laugh.
“She always knows.””
I looked between them.
“Someone needs to start explaining.””
Rebecca took off her coat.
“I'll tell you everything.””
Mom whispered, “Rebecca, please.””
“No.””
Rebecca's voice was calm.
“I've waited forty years.””
She sat down.
I remained standing.
“How did Vanessa find you?””
Rebecca looked surprised.
“Vanessa?””
“Yes.””
“She contacted me six months ago.””
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
“Why?””
“She said she was investigating your mother.””
“Investigating her for what?””
Rebecca looked at Mom.
“Money.””
Mom didn't respond.
Rebecca continued.
“She told me your mother had been moving money for years.””
“That's not possible.””
“It is.””
I shook my head.
“My mother sold her house.””
Rebecca's expression changed.
“Your mother didn't just sell her house.””
“What do you mean?””
“She inherited money from my father.””
I stared at her.
“My father?””
“Yes.””
“How?””
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Because he was still legally connected to my mother when she died.””
I looked at Mom.
“Is that true?””
Mom nodded.
“Your father inherited Elaine's estate.””
“Then why didn't he tell me?””
“Because most of it went to Rebecca.””
I looked at Rebecca.
“How much?””
She gave a tired smile.
“Enough to change several lives.””
“And my mother?””
“She controlled it.””
My stomach tightened.
“Why?””
Rebecca's eyes hardened.
“Because your father died before I could access it.””
I stared at Mom.
“You've been managing Rebecca's inheritance?””
Mom nodded.
“Until she turned eighteen.””
“But she never got it?””
“She did.””
Rebecca interrupted.
“Part of it.””
I turned toward her.
“What happened to the rest?””
Rebecca reached into her handbag.
She pulled out a folder.
“I've been trying to find that answer for years.””
She opened it.
Inside were old legal documents.
Bank records.
Trust agreements.
Letters.
And a photocopy of a signature.
I recognized it immediately.
My mother's.
Rebecca pointed to one page.
“This trust was supposed to hold my inheritance until I turned twenty-five.””
I read the document.
The balance listed was $410,000.
“That's a lot of money.””
“It was more then.””
“What happened?””
Rebecca slid another page across the table.
“Withdrawals.””
I looked at the dates.
Several withdrawals were made before Rebecca turned eighteen.
Others happened afterward.
All authorized by someone named Evelyn Harper.
My mother.
I looked at her.
“Mom.””
She was crying silently.
“I didn't take it for myself.””
“Where did it go?””
“Your father made me promise.””
“What promise?””
“He wanted Rebecca protected.””
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“Protected?””
Mom looked at her.
“He believed your family would hurt you.””
Rebecca's face hardened.
“They did.””
Mom looked down.
“I used some of the money to pay for your schooling.””
“You used all of it.””
“No.””
Rebecca pointed at another document.
“You transferred money into David's account.””
I felt my blood run cold.
“What?””
Mom shook her head.
“That wasn't what it looks like.””
Rebecca pulled out a bank statement.
“Then explain it.””
I took it.
The account number belonged to a savings account I had opened when I was sixteen.
I remembered that account.
Mom had told me it was my college fund.
I had never questioned it.
The statement showed a deposit of $180,000.
The source?
Rebecca's trust.
I stared at my mother.
“You used her money to fund my education?””
Mom whispered:
“I didn't know what else to do.””
Rebecca stood.
“And that's why I hated you.””
Mom flinched.
“I know.””
“You let me grow up believing my father abandoned me.””
“I never said that.””
“You didn't have to.””
Rebecca's eyes filled with tears.
“You erased me.””
I couldn't stand there silently anymore.
“Why did Vanessa care?””
Rebecca wiped her cheek.
“Because she found another document.””
“What document?””
“A beneficiary form.””
She opened the folder again.
“This one.””
I read it.
My father's signature was at the bottom.
The beneficiary of the trust wasn't Rebecca.
It was me.
I looked up.
“Why?””
Rebecca shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Mom whispered, “Because your father believed Rebecca was dead.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
Mom's voice broke.
“He was told Rebecca died.””
Rebecca went completely still.
“Who told him?””
Mom didn't answer.
“Who told him?”” Rebecca demanded.
Mom covered her face.
I felt cold spreading through my hands.
“Mom.””
She lowered her hands.
“It was your grandfather.””
“Why?””
“Because he wanted the inheritance.””
Rebecca's voice trembled.
“He told my father I died?””
“Yes.””
“And you believed him?””
“I didn't know the truth until years later.””
Rebecca stared at her.
“Then why didn't you tell him?””
Mom looked at me.
“Because by then, your father was dying.””
I couldn't speak.
Rebecca sat down slowly.
For the first time, she looked less angry than exhausted.
“What does Vanessa have to do with all this?”” I asked.
Rebecca looked at me.
“She didn't come to me because she cared about the past.””
“Then why?””
“Because she discovered the trust still existed.””
My chest tightened.
“Still?””
“Yes.””
Rebecca reached into her folder and pulled out one final page.
“She found out your mother had been making transfers.””
I looked at the document.
There was a handwritten note attached.
*Rebecca Morgan — Beneficiary claim reopened.*
My heart hammered.
“Vanessa wasn't stealing the money just for herself.””
Rebecca nodded.
“She was moving it before I could claim it.””
I looked at Mom.
“Then why did she send me the photograph?””
Rebecca's expression changed.
“She wanted you to turn against your mother.””
“Why?””
“Because if you did, she could convince you to sign over control of the remaining assets.””
I stared at her.
“And the seventy-five thousand?””
Rebecca shook her head.
“That wasn't for me.””
“Then why did she transfer it to your account?””
Rebecca looked genuinely confused.
“I never asked her for money.””
My phone buzzed.
A message from Vanessa appeared.
*David, I can explain everything. But you need to come home alone.*
Then another.
*Your mother has lied to you for forty years.*
Then one more.
*If Rebecca tells you what happened next, you'll understand why I had no choice.*
I looked at Rebecca.
“What happened next?””
She stared at Mom.
May you like
Then at me.
“My father didn't die naturally.””
