Chapter 4
I couldn't stop staring at the letter.
A secret about my childhood.
My grandfather had written those words shortly before his death.
And suddenly, memories I had spent years trying to forget returned with painful clarity.
My mother criticizing my appearance.
My mother comparing me to Tasha.
My mother telling me I was difficult to love.
Whenever I questioned her, she said I was too sensitive.
Now Grandpa was suggesting there was a reason.
I looked at Samuel.
"What secret?"
He folded his hands.
"Nia, your grandfather wanted you to read the entire letter before we discussed the supporting documents."
My fingers trembled.
I looked down.
Grandpa's handwriting filled three pages.
My darling girl,
There are truths I should have told you sooner.
For that, I am deeply sorry.
When you were four years old, Diane and your father were having serious problems.
Your father, Robert Williams, had begun questioning how money from a family account was being used.
He wanted to separate certain finances.
Your mother feared losing the lifestyle she had become accustomed to.
I swallowed.
My father had died when I was six.
For most of my childhood, Mom told us he had been irresponsible.
She said he wasted money.
She claimed his debts nearly destroyed our family.
I had never questioned her story.
Grandpa continued.
Your father was not the reckless man Diane described.
He was trying to protect your future.
I felt tears running down my cheeks.
Tasha leaned closer.
"What's wrong?"
I handed her the first page.
She began reading.
Her expression changed.
I continued with the letter.
Your father established a small education fund in your name. He asked me to oversee it if anything happened to him.
After his death, Diane insisted the money should be used for family expenses.
I refused to release the funds without proper documentation.
That was when our relationship began to deteriorate.
My chest tightened.
I remembered my mother telling me Grandpa didn't love her.
That he controlled money.
That he deliberately made her life difficult.
But perhaps he had simply refused to give her access to something that belonged to me.
The letter continued.
Diane blamed you for the restrictions on those funds.
She told me that because the account carried your name, she was being treated unfairly.
I tried repeatedly to explain that you were a child and had done nothing wrong.
But she continued to direct her resentment toward you.
I stopped breathing.
Tasha covered her mouth.
"Mom blamed you for money?"
I stared at the paper.
My childhood suddenly looked different.
Every insult.
Every comparison.
Every time she called me selfish for wanting something of my own.
It wasn't because I had failed to be a good daughter.
It was because my mother resented a financial boundary established by my father.
I felt physically sick.
Marcus moved closer.
"Nia?"
I couldn't answer.
I kept reading.
Your father loved you deeply.
He worked hard to make sure you would have opportunities.
The education fund was eventually transferred into a protected account.
It helped support your university expenses, though you were never told the full story.
I wish I had explained everything earlier.
I began sobbing.
For years, Mom had told me she paid for my education through enormous personal sacrifice.
Whenever I disagreed with her, she reminded me of the tuition bills.
She said I owed her obedience because she had invested so much in me.
But my father had prepared for my future before he died.
I looked at Samuel.
"Did Mom know?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
I laughed through my tears.
"She told me she paid everything herself."
Samuel looked saddened.
"Your grandfather knew she was making those claims."
I turned back to the letter.
The final paragraph made me cry harder.
Nia, never believe that you were difficult to love.
Your father's greatest joy was being your father.
And one of the greatest joys of my life was watching you become the woman you are today.
I am leaving you sixty thousand dollars because I want you to begin your marriage with something that belongs entirely to you.
Not because you owe Tasha less love.
But because I have already tried to help her financially, and I cannot allow Diane to take from you what I intended you to keep.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
Grandpa had known.
He knew how Mom treated me.
He knew how desperately I tried to earn her approval.
And he had left me something more valuable than money.
The truth.
Tasha sat beside me, crying silently.
"I didn't know any of this," she whispered.
I looked at her.
"I know."
She shook her head.
"Mom always told me Dad left us with nothing."
Samuel opened another folder.
"Your father's estate records tell a different story."
He showed us documents listing a modest life insurance policy, the education fund, and payments made toward the family home.
My father hadn't been wealthy.
But he had been responsible.
He had tried to protect both daughters.
And after his death, Mom had rewritten his story.
I felt anger rising beneath my grief.
"Why would she do that?"
Samuel took a breath.
"I cannot explain Diane's motives beyond what the records and your grandfather's letter establish."
Marcus placed his hand over mine.
"We don't have to solve everything today."
I nodded.
But I wasn't finished.
I looked at Samuel.
"What about the money meant for Tasha?"
He opened the financial report.
"Your grandfather believed Diane misappropriated substantial funds. He also believed someone assisted her."
I frowned.
"Who?"
Samuel hesitated.
"The bank records show repeated transfers to an account associated with a man named Victor Lane."
Tasha suddenly stiffened.
I looked at her.
"Do you know him?"
Her face drained of color.
She nodded.
"Mom introduced him to me last year."
My heart raced.
"Who is he?"
Tasha swallowed.
"She said he was her financial adviser."
Samuel looked at the records.
May you like
Then he said something that made both of us freeze.
"Victor Lane was also the person who witnessed the disputed authorization bearing your grandfather's signature."
