Chapter 5: What Jasmine Found
Jasmine lived in the kind of house Vanessa loved showing off.
A wide stone driveway led to a two-story home with tall windows, manicured hedges, and a front door painted a deep, expensive-looking red. There were two luxury cars parked outside, both polished until the late-afternoon sun reflected off their hoods.
I had attended countless parties there as a child.
I had also spent countless evenings being reminded that my family was fortunate to have Vanessa's generosity.
Today, I didn't ring the bell.
Jasmine opened the door before I reached it.
Her mascara had run down both cheeks. She wore the same champagne-colored dress from graduation, but the hem was twisted, and one of her earrings was missing.
“Come in,” she whispered.
“What happened?””
She glanced over her shoulder.
“Mom's upstairs. Dad left about twenty minutes ago. I don't know where he went.””
I stepped inside.
The house smelled of lemon polish and expensive candles. A vase of fresh lilies stood on the hall table, and the large family portrait above the staircase showed Vanessa, Derrick, and Jasmine smiling beneath a chandelier.
My face wasn't in the picture.
It had never been.
Jasmine led me into the kitchen and locked the door.
“I shouldn't have called you,” she said.
“Then why did you?””
“Because I saw what Mom found.””
She opened a drawer and removed a folded sheet of paper.
“I was looking for an old jewelry box in the storage room. Mom had been tearing apart the paneling in Grandma Elena's old house. She came back here carrying a box, and when she thought I wasn't watching, she locked herself in the study.””
Jasmine swallowed.
“I heard her talking to Dad on the phone. She said she'd found the hospital records and the original ledger.””
“What ledger?””
“The one Dad said Marcus stole.””
She placed the paper on the counter.
It was a photocopy of a handwritten document listing dates, account numbers, and amounts of money transferred between several company accounts.
At the bottom was a signature.
Derrick Brooks.
Beside it, in smaller handwriting, was a second name.
Vanessa Brooks.
My stomach tightened.
“Where did you get this?””
“Mom dropped it in the hallway. I picked it up before she noticed.””
I studied the numbers.
“I don't understand what any of this means.””
“Neither do I. But there's something else.””
Jasmine reached into her pocket and produced a small silver key.
“This was inside the box.””
I looked at it.
“What's it for?””
“I don't know. But Mom was terrified when she realized it was missing.””
She lowered her voice.
“She said, 'If Marcus's original records still exist, everything we built will collapse.''”
I felt a chill move through me.
“Everything you built?””
Jasmine nodded.
“She didn't mean the house. She meant something else.””
Before I could ask what, a voice came from the hallway.
“Jasmine?””
Vanessa.
My cousin's face went white.
“She's coming.””
“Where can we go?””
“The pantry.””
I stared at her.
“I'm not hiding from her.””
Jasmine grabbed my wrist.
“Please. Just listen for one minute.””
She pulled me into the pantry, where we stood between shelves of canned vegetables and jars of imported pasta. Through the narrow gap in the door, I could see Vanessa enter the kitchen.
She carried a leather folder beneath one arm and a glass of water in the other hand.
She set both on the counter.
Then she opened her phone.
“Derrick,” she said sharply, “where are you?””
A pause.
“No, I don't care what Ruth told you. The girl has no idea what she's dealing with.””
Another pause.
Vanessa began pacing.
“If she has the letter, we need to get it back. If she has the medal, we need to know whether Marcus left anything else.””
She stopped beside the counter.
“And for God's sake, stop pretending you didn't know what happened that night. You were there.””
My heart hammered.
Vanessa lowered her voice.
“You promised me we'd never speak about the hospital again.””
She ended the call.
Then she opened the leather folder.
Inside were several photographs.
One showed Marcus standing outside a warehouse. Another showed my mother holding me as a baby. The third showed Derrick beside a dark sedan parked near St. Catherine's Hospital.
Vanessa touched the third photograph with one finger.
“You should have stayed gone, Marcus,” she whispered.
Then she tore it in half.
I felt Jasmine's hand close around mine.
She was shaking.
Vanessa turned toward the pantry.
For one terrifying second, I thought she'd seen us.
Instead, she picked up her glass and walked out of the kitchen.
We waited until her footsteps faded upstairs.
Then Jasmine opened the pantry door.
I stepped out and went straight to the counter.
The torn photograph lay beside the sink.
I picked up both halves and fitted them together.
Derrick stood beside the sedan, his face turned toward the camera.
But behind him, partially obscured by the open car door, was another figure.
A woman wearing a nurse's uniform.
Her face had been scratched out with a pen.
On the back of the photograph, someone had written a date.
*October 14. 11:40 p.m.*
The same time my mother's letter had mentioned.
“Jasmine,” I said quietly, “who is that woman?””
“I don't know.””
I turned the photograph over.
Beneath the date were four more words.
Ask who changed the file.
I looked at my cousin.
“Who had access to the hospital records?””
Jasmine hesitated.
“Mom used to volunteer at St. Catherine's. She was on the hospital's fundraising committee for years.””
“And Derrick?””
“He handled some of their financial accounts through the company.””
The pieces were beginning to form a picture, but I couldn't yet see the whole thing.
I took out my phone and photographed the document and the picture.
Then I slipped both into my bag.
Jasmine stared at me.
“What are you going to do?””
“Find out who that nurse was.””
“Mom will never let you near those records.””
“I don't need her permission.””
Jasmine looked toward the staircase.
“There's something else I need to tell you.””
Her voice was so quiet I had to lean closer.
“Mom didn't just find the box. She found a letter inside it.””
“What letter?””
“One addressed to Dad.””
“From whom?””
“I don't know. But I saw one sentence before she snatched it away.””
Jasmine shut her eyes.
“It said, 'The child was never the target. Marcus was.''”
My skin prickled.
“Did she say anything else?””
Jasmine nodded.
“She said if the police ever found out what happened at the hospital, they wouldn't just investigate Dad.””
She looked directly at me.
“They'd investigate her, too.””
A heavy thud sounded upstairs.
We both froze.
Then Vanessa shouted, “Jasmine! Bring me your phone!””
My cousin looked at the device in her hand.
Her messages with me were still open.
I grabbed her wrist.
“Delete our conversation.””
She obeyed, her fingers flying over the screen.
Another shout came from upstairs.
“Now, Jasmine!””
My cousin thrust the silver key into my palm.
“Take it,” she whispered.
“There's a storage unit Dad rents under a different name. I found the receipt in his desk.””
She pulled a small slip of paper from her pocket and pressed it into my hand.
A storage facility address was written on it.
Unit 214.
“I think the original records are there,” she said.
Footsteps pounded down the stairs.
Jasmine pushed me toward the back door.
“Go through the garage. Don't let Mom see you.””
I caught her hand.
“Come with me.””
She shook her head.
“If I leave, she'll know I helped you.””
“You could be in danger.””
She gave me a sad, exhausted smile.
“I've spent my whole life believing my mother was the person who made everything safe.””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I'm starting to think she was the reason everyone was afraid.””
I slipped through the garage just as Vanessa entered the kitchen.
“Aaliyah!”” she screamed.
I ran.
I didn't stop until I reached my car, locked the doors, and placed the silver key on the passenger seat.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Jasmine appeared.
I found something else in the box.
Then another.
There was a hospital wristband with your name on it.
My fingers went numb.
I called her immediately.
She answered in a whisper.
“Jasmine, what do you mean?””
“I found it under the letter. It has your name, your birth date, and a second number written in red ink.””
“What number?””
“I think it's a patient identification number.””
“Why would there be a wristband with my name on it?””
Jasmine started crying again.
“Because, Aaliyah, I think you were at the hospital the night your mother died.””
I stared through the windshield.
“I was two years old.””
“I know.””
“Why would Mom take me there?””
“I don't know.””
I heard a door slam on Jasmine's end of the call.
Then Vanessa's voice rang out.
“Who are you talking to?””
The line went dead.
I sat motionless for several seconds, gripping the phone.
Then I looked at the storage unit address.
Unit 214.
Whatever Marcus had left behind, someone had gone to extraordinary lengths to hide it.
And if Jasmine was right, the truth might involve more than my father's disappearance.
It might involve the last hours of my mother's life.
I started the engine.
But before I could pull away, an unfamiliar car stopped directly behind mine.
A man stepped out.
He wore a dark coat, held a leather briefcase, and looked straight at me.
Then he approached my window and tapped twice on the glass.
I lowered it a few inches.
“Are you Aaliyah Brooks?”” he asked.
“Yes.””
He opened his briefcase and removed a sealed envelope.
“My name is Thomas Hale. I was your father's attorney.””
My breath caught.
“My father is dead?””
Thomas looked startled.
“No. Not as far as I know.””
He handed me the envelope.
“Marcus instructed me to give you this if anyone ever showed me the medal.””
I stared at the envelope.
On the front, in familiar handwriting, were the words:
For my daughter, when she's ready to know why I never came home.
Thomas glanced toward Vanessa's house.
“There's something you need to understand before you open it.””
“What?””
He lowered his voice.
“Your father didn't disappear because he was afraid of going to prison.””
May you like
He paused.
“He disappeared because he believed someone was planning to kill you.””
