Chapter 5
The accident report arrived three days later.
I was sitting in Naomi's kitchen when Daniel called.
Silas had offered to let me stay in the guesthouse on his property.
I declined.
I wasn't ready to depend on anyone.
But Naomi insisted I visit for breakfast.
She said she had spent twelve years imagining what she would say when she found me.
Now that I was here, she wasn't wasting another day.
We were halfway through coffee when Daniel asked whether I wanted to review the documents.
I said yes.
An hour later, we sat around Silas's dining table.
Daniel opened the file.
I saw my mother's name.
Rebecca Elaine Parker.
Age thirty-eight.
Deceased.
Even after eighteen years, the word hurt.
Daniel explained that the records did not establish criminal wrongdoing.
The collision had been caused by a driver who ran a red light.
But the surrounding statements told another story.
My mother had been driving to meet Patricia.
At a restaurant near the highway.
She never arrived.
I frowned.
“Why would Mom meet her?”
Daniel handed me a witness statement.
Patricia had told police she was a family acquaintance.
She claimed Rebecca wanted to discuss an issue involving my father.
Nothing more.
But there was another statement.
From a coworker of my mother's.
A woman named Helen Morris.
I read it slowly.
Rebecca had recently discovered that her husband was having an affair.
She had planned to confront the other woman.
My fingers went cold.
I looked up.
“Patricia?”
Daniel nodded.
“We haven't independently confirmed every detail, but that is what the witness reported.”
For a moment, nobody spoke.
I thought about all the times Dad called my mother the love of his life.
All the times Patricia spoke about how she had helped our family heal.
All the times I blamed myself for struggling to accept her.
My mother had been alive when their relationship began.
And I had spent years believing Patricia rescued my father from grief.
I pushed back my chair.
“I need air.”
Naomi followed me onto the terrace.
I stood beside the railing, staring at the garden.
“She was going to confront her.”
Naomi nodded gently.
“And Dad knew.”
My throat tightened.
“He let me believe she was just some wonderful woman who appeared after Mom died.”
Naomi didn't interrupt.
I looked at her.
“Do you know what Patricia used to say?”
She shook her head.
“That my mother would have wanted me to accept her.”
The words nearly choked me.
“She used my dead mother to make me feel guilty.”
Naomi hugged me.
I cried until I couldn't cry anymore.
Then I wiped my face.
“I want to speak to Helen.”
Daniel arranged the meeting.
Helen Morris was seventy-one now.
She lived in a modest house outside the city.
When she opened the door, she stared at me for several seconds.
Then she began crying.
“You have your mother's eyes.”
I nearly broke again.
She invited us inside.
Her living room was filled with books.
Just like my mother's.
Helen brought out a small cardboard box.
“I've kept these for years.”
Inside were photographs.
Birthday cards.
A few handwritten notes.
And a sealed envelope.
My name was written across the front.
Jenna.
I touched the handwriting.
My mother's handwriting.
Helen watched me.
“Rebecca gave me that letter the week before she died.”
“Why didn't you send it?”
Helen's face filled with regret.
“Your father came to collect her belongings. He told me you were too fragile to receive anything connected to the problems in their marriage.”
I closed my eyes.
“He said he would give it to you when you were older.”
My heart sank.
Of course he hadn't.
I opened the envelope carefully.
Inside was a three-page letter.
My mother had written it after discovering the affair.
She didn't know whether her marriage would survive.
She was frightened.
Angry.
But most of the letter was about me.
My beautiful Jenna.
You are not responsible for fixing the mistakes adults make.
If your father and I cannot remain together, that will never mean you were not enough.
You were the happiest surprise of my life.
Never become smaller just to make someone else comfortable.
I pressed the paper against my chest.
I could almost hear her voice.
Helen reached for my hand.
“Your mother loved you more than anything.”
I nodded through tears.
“I know.”
For the first time, I truly believed it.
Helen hesitated.
“There's another thing you should understand.”
I looked up.
“Rebecca was planning to separate from your father.”
My chest tightened.
“She had contacted an attorney and started organizing her finances.”
Helen opened another folder.
“Her attorney sent me copies of several papers after her death because Rebecca had named me as an emergency contact.”
Daniel examined the documents.
His expression sharpened.
“Jenna, these appear to concern a trust.”
I stared at him.
“What trust?”
Helen answered quietly.
“Your maternal grandmother left Rebecca a small inheritance. Rebecca wanted to protect it for you.”
Daniel read through the pages.
Then he looked at me.
“These documents describe an education and housing trust intended for you after your mother's death.”
I shook my head.
“I never received anything.”
Helen looked devastated.
“I was afraid of that.”
Daniel kept reading.
“The trust required periodic accounting. There should be records of who served as trustee and how the assets were managed.”
I thought of my apartment.
My student loans.
My father's lectures about financial responsibility.
“How much was it?”
Daniel checked the oldest statement.
“Approximately one hundred and eighty thousand dollars when it was established.”
The room went quiet.
I stared at him.
My mother had left me enough money to change my life.
And somehow, I had never known.
Daniel closed the folder.
“We need to examine the original trust documents before drawing conclusions. But if these records are authentic, there are serious questions about the administration.”
I nodded numbly.
Then my phone rang.
Felicity.
For the first time, I answered.
“What do you want?”
She sounded furious.
“Adrian moved out.”
I said nothing.
“He says he needs time. His father has frozen the foundation payments. My wedding pictures are all over social media, and people are asking questions.”
I stared at my mother's letter.
“Then answer them.”
“You did this!”
“No, Felicity. I didn't tell anyone I was dead.”
She went silent.
I continued.
“I didn't spend money meant for other people.”
“Jenna—”
“And I didn't steal from my dead mother.”
A sharp breath came through the phone.
“How did you find out about the trust?”
My body went still.
I looked at Daniel.
He was watching me.
I swallowed.
“What do you know about it?”
Felicity didn't answer.
Then she whispered something that changed everything.
May you like
“Mom said if you ever discovered the trust, we'd all be ruined.”
The line went dead.
