Chapter 6: The Secret My Mother Carried
The message stared back at me.
*Now ask your mother why she helped Victoria cover it up.*
I read it once.
Then twice.
Then a third time.
Each time, the words felt heavier.
My mother.
Helping Victoria.
Covering it up.
I slowly lifted my eyes from the screen.
My mother was still standing near the table.
The old phone sat beside her like evidence at a trial.
Richard looked between us.
Nobody spoke.
Because everyone already knew who the question was for.
“Mom.””
Her face changed.
Not surprise.
Not confusion.
Pain.
“Emily…”
I held up my phone.
“Is it true?””
She closed her eyes.
That was all the answer I needed.
My chest tightened.
“How?””
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“I didn’t help her steal.””
“That’s not what I asked.””
I stepped closer.
“Did you help her cover it up?””
My mother looked at the floor.
“Yes.””
The word landed harder than any scream could have.
I felt something inside me crack.
Not anger.
Something worse.
Disappointment.
Because even after everything, some small part of me had still been hoping she was different.
That there was a reason.
A misunderstanding.
A mistake.
But no.
She had known.
She had chosen silence.
“How long?””
My mother looked up.
“Three years.””
I laughed quietly.
A painful, empty sound.
“Three years.””
She nodded.
“You let me think Dad abandoned me.””
“I never wanted you to believe that.””
“But you let me.””
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.””
I turned away.
I couldn’t look at her.
Because suddenly every memory after my father’s death felt different.
The funeral.
The empty house.
The conversations about money.
The nights I cried alone while she told me to be practical.
She wasn’t just grieving with me.
She was hiding something from me.
Richard stepped forward.
“Emily, you need to understand—”
I turned sharply.
“No.””
He stopped.
“You don’t get to explain this.””
My voice shook.
“Everyone keeps explaining.””
I pointed at the old phone.
“Everyone has a reason.””
I pointed at my mother.
“She was protecting me.””
Then at Richard.
“He was following Dad’s wishes.””
I shook my head.
“But nobody asked what I wanted.””
Silence.
“I wanted my father.””
The words came out before I could stop them.
And suddenly, the anger disappeared for a second.
Leaving only grief.
“I wanted someone to tell me the truth.””
My mother looked like she wanted to come closer.
She didn’t.
Good.
She didn’t deserve to.
“What happened after Dad died?””
I asked.
My mother sat down slowly.
“I found out Victoria had taken money from the company.””
“How?””
“Daniel had left clues.””
“Clues?””
She nodded.
“He knew he might not have time to finish the investigation.””
Richard added quietly:
“Your father created a backup system.””
I looked at him.
“What kind of system?””
“Every important financial document was copied and stored separately.””
“Where?””
Richard hesitated.
I noticed.
“Where?””
He reached into his briefcase.
“Your father’s private office.””
I frowned.
“Dad’s office was searched after his death.””
“Yes.””
“By who?””
Richard didn’t answer.
I already knew.
“Victoria.””
He nodded.
My stomach turned.
“She went through his office?””
“Yes.””
“And you let her?””
“No.””
His expression darkened.
“I arrived after the police left.””
“When?””
“The next morning.””
I stared at him.
“And you found something.””
“Yes.””
“What?””
Richard pulled out a small flash drive.
“This.””
I looked at it.
“Why didn’t you give this to me?””
He looked ashamed.
“Because your father told me not to unless your life was in danger.””
I almost couldn’t believe it.
“Isn’t this dangerous?””
“Yes.””
“Then why now?””
Richard looked at my phone.
“Because someone else knows about it.””
My heart sank.
The unknown messages.
The photographs.
Someone was watching.
Someone knew.
“Who is sending these?””
Richard shook his head.
“I don’t know.””
“But they know everything.””
“Yes.””
My mother suddenly stood.
“We need to leave.””
I looked at her.
“What?””
“Tonight.””
Her voice was urgent.
“You need to pack a bag.””
I stared.
“Why?””
“Because whoever sent that message knows too much.””
I almost laughed.
“Now you’re worried?””
“Yes.””
“After three years?””
Her face fell.
“I know.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“You don’t get to suddenly become my protector again.””
She looked hurt.
But I didn’t care.
Not yet.
A loud sound interrupted us.
A crash.
From upstairs.
All three of us froze.
My mother went pale.
“What was that?””
Richard immediately reached into his coat.
I noticed.
“What are you doing?””
He looked at me.
“Checking if we’re alone.””
The three of us stood still.
Listening.
Another sound.
A floorboard creaking.
Someone was upstairs.
My mother whispered:
“Impossible.””
I looked at her.
“Why?””
“Because nobody has a key.””
Richard moved toward the staircase.
I followed.
“No.””
He looked back.
“Stay here.””
I ignored him.
After everything tonight, I wasn’t standing behind someone else while they decided what I could handle.
We climbed slowly.
The hallway was dark.
My childhood bedroom was at the end.
The door was open.
I stopped.
I knew I had closed it.
“Someone was in my room.””
Richard looked inside.
The drawers were open.
My closet was empty.
Papers were scattered across the floor.
Someone had searched it.
My mother covered her mouth.
“They’re looking for something.””
I turned.
“What?””
She didn’t answer.
“Mom.””
She looked terrified.
“Something your father left you.””
I felt my pulse increase.
“What?””
She walked into the room slowly.
“There was supposed to be another document.””
“Another one?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
She looked at my old bookshelf.
“The night before your father died, he came into this room.””
I froze.
“Here?””
“Yes.””
“What did he do?””
“He gave you something.””
I frowned.
“I don’t remember.””
“You were asleep.””
My mother moved toward the bookshelf.
“He said you would find it when the time was right.””
I stared at her.
“You’re telling me Dad hid something in my room?””
“Yes.””
“Then why didn’t you tell me?””
Her eyes filled.
“Because I was afraid of what it would reveal.””
Richard looked at the bookshelf.
“Where?””
My mother reached behind a row of old books.
Her fingers found something.
A small hidden compartment.
My heart started racing.
She pulled out a tiny box.
Covered in dust.
My name was written on top.
Emily.
I touched it.
And immediately, I knew.
This was from my father.
Inside was a key.
And one photograph.
I picked up the photograph.
It showed my father standing outside a building I didn’t recognize.
Beside him was a woman.
Not my mother.
Not Victoria.
A woman I had never seen.
On the back, there was handwriting.
My father’s handwriting.
*The only person who knows the entire truth.*
I turned the photograph over again.
And my blood went cold.
Because the woman in the picture…
Was holding a baby.
A baby with a hospital bracelet.
A bracelet that clearly showed a name.
*Emily Hayes.*
I looked up.
“What is this?””
Nobody answered.
My mother looked at the picture.
Then she sat down.
Slowly.
Like her legs could no longer hold her.
“Mom?””
Her face was completely pale.
“Emily…”
“What?””
She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“There’s something your father never told you.””
I waited.
“What?””
May you like
Her voice broke.
“You weren’t the only child he had.””
