Chapter 6 - The Truth About My Mother's Death
I played the voicemail three times.
Each time, the same unfamiliar voice made my skin crawl.
"I knew your mother. And there's something Daniel never told you about how she died."
Aunt Teresa pulled into a gas station.
She turned around in her seat.
"Jordan, let me hear that."
I handed her the phone.
As the recording played, her expression changed.
She went pale.
Nia noticed immediately.
"Mom?"
Aunt Teresa didn't answer.
She replayed it.
Then she whispered, "I know that voice."
My heart began pounding.
"Who is it?"
She closed her eyes.
"Raymond Collins."
I stared at her.
"Claire's brother?"
She nodded.
"How do you know him?"
Aunt Teresa looked out the windshield.
"Because he met your mother years before Claire met your father."
The car suddenly felt too small.
"What?"
She turned toward me.
"Rachel worked with several local charities. Raymond approached one of them about a property investment."
I leaned forward.
"And?"
"Your mother reviewed some of the financial information. She didn't like what she found."
"What did she find?"
Aunt Teresa hesitated.
"She believed Raymond was misleading investors."
My stomach twisted.
"Did she report him?"
"She warned the charity's board. They stopped considering the investment."
I stared at her.
"Then what happened?"
"Raymond was furious."
Nia covered her mouth.
"Mom, why didn't you ever tell us?"
"Because I thought that was the end of it."
She looked at me.
"Rachel didn't want you carrying other people's problems."
I swallowed.
"And her death?"
Aunt Teresa took my hand.
"Jordan, your mother died of cancer. I was there through her treatment. Raymond is trying to frighten you."
I stared at the voicemail.
"Then why say Dad hid something?"
"Because he knows you're already hurt and angry with your father."
Her voice softened.
"People like Raymond use whatever pain they can find."
I wanted to believe her.
But after tonight, I didn't know what to believe anymore.
We continued to Aunt Teresa's house.
It was small compared with Dad's mansion.
The carpet was old.
The kitchen cabinets had chipped paint.
There was a narrow hallway leading to two bedrooms.
But the moment I stepped inside, something in my chest loosened.
Photographs covered the walls.
My mother appeared in several of them.
Smiling beside Teresa.
Holding me as a baby.
Laughing at a family barbecue.
Nobody had hidden her pictures.
Nobody acted like loving her was an insult.
Aunt Teresa prepared hot chocolate.
Nia brought blankets.
I sat on the couch with my mother's letter in my hands.
I had found the envelope tucked inside the back pocket of my backpack.
I didn't remember putting it there.
Maybe Nia had saved it.
Maybe I had done it without thinking.
Either way, I held it like something precious.
At nearly two in the morning, my father called.
I hesitated.
Then answered.
"Jordan?"
His voice sounded terrible.
"Are you safe?"
"Yes."
He exhaled.
"Thank God."
I said nothing.
He continued.
"Claire left. Maya went with her."
"Okay."
"I've changed the security codes."
"Okay."
"Marcus is contacting the bank tomorrow."
I stared at the wall.
"Dad, why didn't you tell me Raymond knew Mom?"
Silence.
Then he whispered, "What?"
I played him the voicemail.
When it ended, he cursed under his breath.
I had heard my father swear before.
But never like that.
"Jordan, don't contact him."
"Why?"
"Because Raymond is dangerous when he's desperate."
"Did you know?"
My father hesitated.
"Did you know he had a history with Mom?"
"Yes."
My throat tightened.
"And you still gave him money?"
"Claire told me he'd changed."
I closed my eyes.
There it was again.
Claire said.
Claire wanted.
Claire insisted.
And my father followed.
"What did Mom say about Raymond?"
He took a shaky breath.
"She thought he was dishonest. She warned me years ago."
I stared at the ceiling.
"You believed Claire instead?"
"Yes."
The honesty surprised me.
I didn't know what to do with it.
Dad's voice broke.
"I've made terrible mistakes, Jordan."
I swallowed.
"Then stop making them."
He remained silent.
I continued.
"Stop trusting people just because they're loud enough to make you afraid of disagreeing."
He began crying.
"I'm going to fix this."
"You can't fix everything."
"I know."
For the first time, he didn't argue.
We ended the call.
I slept badly.
Every noise outside made me jump.
At sunrise, I woke to the smell of pancakes.
Aunt Teresa stood in the kitchen.
Nia was sitting at the table.
She looked up when I entered.
"Morning."
I sat beside her.
"Did you sleep?"
"A little."
She pushed a plate toward me.
"You need to eat."
I wasn't hungry.
But I tried.
Halfway through breakfast, Aunt Teresa's phone rang.
It was Marcus.
She put him on speaker.
"Good morning. I'm sorry to call so early."
"What's happened?" I asked.
Marcus hesitated.
"Raymond Collins has been connected to several business disputes. I'm arranging a formal review of the documents Claire submitted."
My hand tightened around my fork.
"Did he take any of my money?"
"At this point, we have no evidence that he accessed your trust assets."
I breathed out.
"But there is something troubling."
"What?"
"Someone attempted to open a credit account using your personal information."
My stomach dropped.
"When?"
"Three days ago."
Nia stared at me.
"How?"
"We're still determining that. The application appears to have been flagged."
Aunt Teresa shook her head.
"Those people are unbelievable."
Marcus continued.
"I recommend placing a credit freeze and reporting the attempted identity misuse."
"I'll do whatever I need to," I said.
There was a pause.
Then Marcus said something I hadn't expected.
"Jordan, you're handling this with remarkable maturity."
I looked down.
"I don't feel mature."
"Being frightened doesn't make you weak."
My eyes stung.
He promised to meet us that afternoon.
After the call, Nia and I sat quietly.
Then she looked at me.
"You know, you don't have to act strong around me."
I smiled sadly.
"Good. Because I'm exhausted."
She reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
For the first time since the accusation, I laughed.
A real laugh.
Small, but real.
Then my father's number appeared on my screen again.
I answered.
"Dad?"
His breathing was uneven.
"Jordan, I need you to listen."
I stood.
"What's wrong?"
"I went through my financial records."
"And?"
"Raymond didn't just take the money I invested."
I felt cold.
"What do you mean?"
My father swallowed.
"Claire had access to one of our joint accounts."
"Okay?"
"More than six hundred thousand dollars is missing."
I gripped the kitchen counter.
"Six hundred thousand?"
"Yes."
I heard something crash in the background.
Then my father whispered, "And Jordan..."
His voice broke.
"I just found an old envelope in Claire's desk."
"What envelope?"
"It has your mother's handwriting."
I stopped breathing.
He continued.
"It's addressed to Raymond Collins."
My stomach twisted.
"What does it say?"
There was a long silence.
Then Dad whispered, "It's a warning."
I closed my eyes.
"About what?"
May you like
My father took a shaky breath.
"About what Raymond planned to do if he ever got close to our family again."
