Chapter 3
My mother died when I was seven.
Her name was Nicole Johnson.
She had warm brown eyes, a beautiful laugh, and a habit of singing while she cooked.
I remembered her teaching me how to braid friendship bracelets.
I remembered the smell of vanilla lotion on her hands.
And I remembered the hospital room where she kissed my forehead and told me to be brave.
She'd been sick for nearly a year.
After she died, Dad told me she'd left money to help with my education.
He promised it would be safe.
Now I was watching him discover that someone had been spending it.
I stared at Grandma Ruth.
"What does Mom's attorney have to do with this?"
Grandma pulled out a chair.
"Sweetheart, after Nicole passed, an attorney helped organize her estate."
I nodded.
"Elaine Mercer?"
"Yes."
Dad looked confused.
"But I dismissed Elaine when the estate administration was finished."
Grandma shook her head.
"Not exactly."
Claire suddenly interrupted.
"Ruth, please."
Grandma turned toward her.
"Don't you dare."
I'd never heard Grandma sound so angry.
She usually spoke gently.
She brought cookies when she visited.
She called everyone darling.
But now her voice was sharp enough to cut through the room.
Dad looked at her.
"Mom, what do you know?"
Grandma took a deep breath.
"Nicole left instructions about Maya's inheritance."
Dad nodded.
"I know."
"All of them?"
He frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Grandma looked toward me.
Then back at Dad.
"Nicole wanted an independent trustee involved."
Dad sat completely still.
"That's not what Elaine told me."
Grandma's expression darkened.
"That's because you never read the final letter."
I felt my stomach twist.
"What letter?"
Grandma reached into her handbag.
She removed a folded envelope.
The paper looked old.
My name was written across the front.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
Mom's handwriting.
My heart started pounding.
"Where did you get that?"
Grandma's eyes filled.
"Your mother gave it to me before she died."
I stared at her.
"Why didn't you show me?"
She looked ashamed.
"She wanted you to have it when you turned sixteen."
I swallowed.
"Then why are you showing it now?"
Grandma looked at Claire.
"Because somebody has already violated what Nicole wanted."
Dad took the envelope carefully.
He looked at me.
"Do you want to open it?"
My hands trembled.
I nodded.
He handed it to me.
I slid one finger beneath the seal.
Inside was a letter.
The first line made me cry.
My beautiful Maya,
If you are reading this, I hope you know that every day I spent being your mother was the greatest gift of my life.
I covered my mouth.
Dad wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
I kept reading.
Mom wrote about my love of building things.
She remembered the cardboard castle I made when I was five.
She said I asked more questions than anyone she'd ever known.
Then she wrote something that made my chest tighten.
Your father and I have worked hard to make sure you will always have opportunities, even when I cannot be there to help you.
I looked toward Dad.
He was crying.
I continued.
The money I've set aside is for your education, your security, and your future. Nobody should use it to make you feel less important than anyone else.
My tears fell onto the paper.
It was as though Mom had known exactly what I needed to hear.
I read the final paragraph silently.
Then I reached the last sentence.
Never let anyone convince you that love must be earned by giving up what belongs to you.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
Dad held me tightly.
For a moment, I forgot Claire was even there.
Then Grandma spoke.
"Nicole also prepared a written trust instruction."
Dad looked up.
"What instruction?"
"Elaine was supposed to provide a full accounting until Maya reached adulthood."
Claire's expression changed.
Dad stared at her.
"Where are those accountings?"
She looked toward the floor.
"I don't know."
Grandma shook her head.
"That's strange, because Elaine told me you requested copies."
My stomach tightened.
Dad stood.
"Claire?"
She started crying.
"I was trying to manage everything."
He stared at her.
"Manage what?"
"Our family!"
Dad shook his head.
"By spending Maya's inheritance?"
Claire's voice rose.
"You act like I haven't sacrificed anything!"
I looked up.
There it was again.
Claire's favorite word.
Sacrifice.
She said it whenever Dad questioned her spending.
Whenever I asked for something.
Whenever Lily wanted an expensive gift.
Claire always talked about what she'd given up.
But nobody ever asked what I'd lost.
Dad looked toward Grandma.
"Do you have Nicole's trust papers?"
Grandma nodded.
"Copies."
She opened another envelope.
Inside were several legal documents.
Dad examined them.
His expression grew darker.
"There's an account I don't recognize."
Grandma leaned closer.
"Which one?"
He pointed.
"Nicole's life insurance proceeds."
I felt cold.
Dad looked toward Claire.
"That money wasn't supposed to be in Maya's education savings account."
Claire stopped crying.
I stared at Dad.
"What does that mean?"
He swallowed.
"Your mother had separate protections for you."
Grandma nodded.
"Exactly."
Dad's face tightened.
"Then why are payments from that account appearing on the same statement?"
Claire backed away.
I watched her.
Her eyes moved toward the front door.
Then toward her purse.
Dad noticed.
"Claire, don't leave."
She snapped.
"You can't keep me here."
"No," he said. "But you can answer my questions."
Claire grabbed her purse.
"I'm done being interrogated."
She stormed toward the hallway.
Then her phone rang.
She froze.
The name appeared on her screen before she could hide it.
ELAINE MERCER.
Dad saw it too.
He looked at Claire.
"Answer."
She shook her head.
"Marcus..."
"Put it on speaker."
Claire stared at him.
Then slowly answered.
Elaine's voice filled the room.
"Claire, we have a serious problem."
Nobody moved.
Elaine continued.
"The insurance company has requested the original beneficiary documents."
My stomach tightened.
Claire whispered, "Not now."
Elaine sounded irritated.
"If Marcus discovers the second policy, the entire arrangement falls apart."
Dad's face went pale.
I looked toward him.
"Second policy?"
Elaine went silent.
May you like
Claire ended the call.
And for the first time, I saw my stepmother look genuinely afraid.
