Chapter 8
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
I looked at my father.
He seemed to age ten years in a single moment.
"Daniel intercepted Lorraine's letters?" he whispered.
Alicia nodded.
"That's what she suspected."
I felt sick.
Then I remembered the letters I'd sent my father two years earlier.
The ones he'd never received.
A terrible possibility took shape.
"Could someone have intercepted mine too?"
Dad looked at me.
His eyes filled.
"I don't know."
Alicia swallowed.
"Daniel had access to the mansion for years. He worked closely with several members of the household staff."
I felt a chill.
Dad's house manager, Patricia, had worked for him since before my mother died.
She'd always been kind to me.
But the household had changed over the years.
Employees came and went.
Vendors had access.
Visitors were welcomed.
And Daniel had been treated like family.
I looked at Dad.
"We need to understand what happened to those letters."
He nodded.
This time, he didn't try to handle it himself.
He contacted his attorney and asked the investigators to review the information.
Within days, new evidence emerged.
A former administrative assistant who'd worked for Daniel agreed to speak.
Her name was Monica Hayes.
She admitted that Daniel had sometimes instructed her to collect business correspondence addressed to my father.
She also remembered being told to divert several envelopes bearing my name.
My stomach turned.
"Where did they go?"
Monica looked ashamed.
"To Daniel's office."
I stared at her.
"Did you read them?"
"No. But I knew they were personal."
My voice shook.
"Why did you do it?"
She lowered her head.
"Because he said your father wanted it that way."
I looked at Dad.
He shook his head.
"I never gave that instruction."
Monica began crying.
"I know that now."
The investigators requested the relevant records and searched for any surviving correspondence.
They later recovered copies of several intercepted letters among old files obtained during the financial investigation.
My letters.
The ones I'd written with trembling hands.
The ones I'd sent because I still loved my father.
The ones he'd never seen.
When Dad read the first letter, he began crying.
He reached the sentence where I'd written that I missed him.
Then he stopped.
"I would have answered," he whispered.
I took his hand.
"I know."
He looked at me.
"I would have come to you."
Tears rolled down my face.
"I know, Daddy."
For two years, we'd both believed the other had chosen silence.
Now we understood that someone had helped keep us apart.
But Daniel hadn't created every problem between us.
Dad and I knew that.
Our argument had been real.
Our pride had been real.
Our inability to apologize had been real.
Daniel had exploited those wounds.
He hadn't made them.
That realization hurt.
But it also gave us a chance to heal honestly.
That evening, Dad and I sat in the garden.
Lily slept in her stroller beside us.
The magnolia tree moved gently in the breeze.
Dad looked at me.
"Nia, I need to tell you something."
I turned.
"Okay."
"When you told me you wanted to become a nurse, I thought you were rejecting everything your mother and I built."
I listened quietly.
He continued.
"I believed the company was our family's future."
"It was your dream, Dad."
He nodded.
"I know that now."
I looked down.
"I wasn't rejecting you."
"I understand."
"I wanted to help people."
He smiled.
"Your mother would have loved that."
My throat tightened.
"Do you really think so?"
He nodded.
"She spent half her life trying to make people feel cared for."
I laughed through tears.
"That sounds like Mom."
Dad reached for my hand.
"I'm proud of you, Nia."
I looked at him.
Those words meant more than I wanted to admit.
For years, I'd imagined hearing them.
I'd convinced myself I didn't need them.
But when they finally came, I cried.
Dad held me.
And for the first time, I didn't feel like a disappointing daughter.
I felt like myself.
The financial investigation continued.
With Alicia's records, Harold's documents, and my mother's journal, investigators established a much clearer picture of the scheme.
Daniel had used his position of trust to approve improper payments.
Victoria's companies had received significant funds.
Several transactions had been disguised through misleading invoices.
And when my mother questioned the records, they attempted to conceal the evidence.
The authorities did not find proof that either had caused my mother's illness.
That distinction mattered.
Her death remained the heartbreaking result of the disease she'd fought.
But they had taken advantage of her final months.
They had exploited her weakness.
And they had tried to erase the work she'd done to protect her family.
That was betrayal enough.
Then investigators uncovered another piece of the story.
Victoria had recently tried to secure a major consulting agreement with Bennett Hospitality.
My father was preparing to reject the proposal after concerns about her business practices resurfaced.
Apparently, she believed reconnecting with our family could give her leverage.
She arranged for Jasmine to invite me to the hotel.
But something had gone wrong with Victoria's plan.
Evelyn told us that Victoria expected me to arrive alone.
When she saw Lily, she became furious.
I stared at Evelyn.
"Why would my baby matter?"
Evelyn looked uncertain.
"We don't know exactly."
Then Dad spoke.
"Because Victoria wanted to pressure me through Nia."
I felt cold.
He continued.
"If she could control access to my daughter, she might believe she could influence me."
I shook my head.
"She thought I was still estranged from you."
Dad nodded.
"And she wanted to use that."
I looked down at Lily.
The thought made me sick.
Victoria hadn't cared that I was a young mother.
She hadn't cared that I was tired.
She hadn't cared that I was holding a newborn.
To her, I was simply a weakness in my father's life.
A weakness she could exploit.
But she'd miscalculated.
Instead of making me helpless, her cruelty had brought us together.
The next morning, Eleanor called.
Her voice was calm but serious.
"Nia, we have enough evidence to move forward with civil claims, and prosecutors are reviewing the criminal referrals."
I felt my heartbeat quicken.
"What happens now?"
"We continue preserving evidence. We cooperate with the investigation. And we prepare for whatever proceedings follow."
I nodded.
"Okay."
Then she added, "Victoria has requested a meeting."
My stomach tightened.
"With my father?"
"No."
I looked up.
"With whom?"
"With you."
I stared at the phone.
"Why?"
Eleanor paused.
"She says she wants to apologize."
I almost laughed.
After the slap.
After the threats.
After everything we'd uncovered.
Now she wanted to apologize.
I looked toward Lily.
She was sleeping peacefully.
Then I looked at my father.
He waited.
He didn't tell me what to do.
For once, the decision was entirely mine.
I took a breath.
"Tell her I'll hear what she has to say."
Eleanor hesitated.
"Are you certain?"
"Yes."
I looked out toward my mother's garden.
"But only through the lawyers, in a safe setting, with a proper record."
May you like
Because this time, Victoria wasn't going to control the room.
And I wasn't going to be silent.
