Chapter 6
The next morning, I stood outside the building where my mother had once worked.
It looked smaller than I remembered.
The brick walls were faded.
The windows were dusty.
And the blue sign that used to say EVERGREEN PROPERTIES had been replaced by a sign advertising office space for rent.
But I recognized the front steps.
I remembered sitting there with Mom, eating strawberry ice cream.
I remembered her laughing when I dropped half of mine onto my shoes.
And I remembered the promise she'd made.
"One day, Maya, I'll teach you how to build something that belongs to you."
I hadn't understood those words when I was seven.
Now they made my eyes burn.
Dad stood beside me.
Uncle Raymond and Olivia were there too.
Aaron Price waited near the entrance with a property representative who had arranged access to the building.
Olivia had explained that we couldn't simply break into a former business property.
The ownership was disputed.
Every step needed to be documented.
So she'd arranged a supervised inspection.
I was grateful.
But I was terrified someone had already removed whatever Mom had hidden.
"Are you ready?" Dad asked.
I nodded.
"I think so."
He squeezed my shoulder.
"We'll go slowly."
Inside, the building smelled like old carpet and cleaning products.
Most of the rooms were empty.
The original reception desk was gone.
The framed photographs had disappeared.
But the hallway looked familiar.
I walked ahead.
Past two empty offices.
Past a storage closet.
Then I stopped.
"Here."
Dad looked at me.
"What?"
"Mom's office."
I pointed toward a door at the end of the hallway.
A rectangular patch of lighter paint showed where her nameplate had once hung.
Olivia asked the representative to unlock it.
The door opened.
My heart started pounding.
The room was almost empty.
There was a desk.
A filing cabinet.
And an old blue sofa.
The same sofa I remembered.
I stepped inside.
For a second, I could almost see Mom sitting behind the desk.
Her long braids falling over one shoulder.
Her glasses resting on her nose.
Her beautiful smile.
"There's my girl," she'd say.
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
Dad noticed.
"Baby?"
I shook my head.
"I'm okay."
But I wasn't.
I missed her so much it hurt.
I walked toward the desk.
It was scratched.
Dusty.
One drawer hung slightly crooked.
I touched its surface.
Then a memory flashed through my mind.
Mom reaching underneath.
A little clicking sound.
Then a narrow compartment opening beside her knee.
I crouched.
Everyone watched silently.
I ran my fingers along the underside of the desk.
Nothing.
My heart sank.
Maybe I'd imagined it.
Maybe eight years had changed the memory.
Then my finger touched a small metal tab.
I froze.
"Wait."
Dad stepped closer.
"What is it?"
I pressed the tab.
Click.
A narrow wooden panel shifted outward.
I stopped breathing.
Inside was a shallow hidden compartment.
Olivia immediately asked everyone to step back.
She photographed the compartment before allowing the contents to be removed and recorded.
There were three things inside.
A small flash drive.
A folded letter.
And a photograph.
The photograph showed Mom standing beside Uncle Raymond.
They were smiling.
On the back were handwritten words.
For Maya, when she's ready.
My tears fell onto my sweater.
"She knew I'd find it."
Raymond's eyes filled.
"She hoped you would."
Olivia carefully examined the folded letter.
It was addressed to me.
This time, nobody tried to take it away.
She handed it over.
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
My darling Maya,
If you're reading this, then something has happened that prevented me from explaining these things myself.
First, I need you to know that you were the greatest gift of my life.
Nothing I built matters more than you.
Not Evergreen.
Not money.
Not any property or business.
You.
My vision blurred.
Dad placed a hand over his mouth.
I kept reading.
I have become concerned about certain financial arrangements involving Thomas Bennett.
I believe he has been using company assets without proper authorization.
I am gathering evidence and intend to confront the problem through legal channels.
If I cannot finish that work, please ask Uncle Raymond to help you.
I swallowed.
There was another paragraph.
Never let anyone convince you that love must be earned through obedience or suffering.
You deserve kindness simply because you exist.
You deserve food when you're hungry.
Warmth when you're cold.
Comfort when you're frightened.
And a home where nobody makes you feel unwanted.
I couldn't read anymore.
I folded over the letter and began sobbing.
Dad wrapped his arms around me.
"She loved you so much."
I nodded against his chest.
"I know."
For years, Denise had made me feel as though I was asking too much.
Too much food.
Too much attention.
Too much kindness.
But Mom had written those words years before Denise ever entered our lives.
Almost as though she'd reached through time to remind me what I deserved.
When I finally stopped crying, Olivia asked permission to examine the flash drive.
We returned to her office that afternoon.
A digital forensic specialist made a protected copy before opening anything.
I sat between Dad and Uncle Raymond.
The first folder contained financial records.
The second held scanned contracts.
The third was labeled BENNETT.
Olivia opened it.
There were payment histories.
Emails.
And documents showing that Thomas had transferred Evergreen money into several companies he controlled.
Dad stared at the screen.
"These transactions started before Evelyn died."
Aaron nodded.
"Yes."
I looked at him.
"Did Mom know?"
"Her letter suggests she suspected."
Another folder contained audio files.
The specialist opened the first one.
My mother's voice filled the room.
I stopped breathing.
It had been eight years since I'd heard her speak.
Not on an old birthday recording.
Not through a video.
But speaking directly about something important.
"Thomas, these numbers don't match."
A man's voice answered.
"You're misunderstanding the reports."
"No, I'm not."
Mom sounded firm.
"I've reviewed the accounts. Money has been transferred without board approval."
Thomas laughed.
"Evelyn, you're overreacting."
"I'm contacting our attorney."
The recording ended.
I stared at the screen.
Dad's face had gone pale.
Olivia opened another file.
Mom's voice again.
"I won't let you take what belongs to my daughter."
Then Thomas.
"Think carefully before you make accusations."
The recording stopped.
My stomach twisted.
"Was he threatening her?"
Olivia's expression was serious.
"It sounds concerning. Investigators will need to review the full context."
I stared at Dad.
He looked devastated.
"She never told me," he whispered.
Uncle Raymond answered quietly.
"She tried."
Dad turned.
"What?"
Raymond took a breath.
"Evelyn told me she was worried about Thomas. She said Marcus trusted him too much."
Dad covered his face.
"I did."
Olivia continued examining the files.
Then she opened a spreadsheet.
Aaron leaned forward.
"Stop."
Everyone looked at him.
He pointed toward an account number.
"I recognize that."
Olivia frowned.
"From where?"
"The recent transfers."
He quickly opened another record.
Two account numbers matched.
The money Thomas had been moving recently was connected to the same financial network my mother had questioned eight years earlier.
I felt sick.
"He's been doing this the whole time?"
Aaron nodded cautiously.
"The evidence suggests a continuing pattern."
Dad stood.
"I want him arrested."
Olivia raised a hand.
"We need to give investigators the records and allow them to establish what happened."
Dad looked furious.
But he sat down.
I stared at Mom's letter.
Then at the files.
For the first time, I understood why she'd created a separate trust.
Why she'd written to Uncle Raymond.
Why she'd hidden evidence in her desk.
She hadn't been planning to abandon Dad.
She'd been trying to protect our family.
And after she died, the people she distrusted had gained control over everything.
That evening, I returned home exhausted.
Jordan was sitting at the kitchen table.
He looked up when I entered.
"Hey."
I stopped.
"Hi."
He pushed a plate toward me.
A grilled cheese sandwich.
Apple slices.
And a glass of water.
"I made you dinner."
I stared at it.
He looked nervous.
"You don't have to eat it."
I sat down.
"Thank you."
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then Jordan whispered, "Maya, there's something I haven't told you."
I looked up.
His eyes were wet.
"About Mom?"
He nodded.
"I didn't just see her notebook."
My heart began pounding.
"What else?"
He swallowed.
"I heard her talking to Thomas."
I put down my sandwich.
"When?"
"The night before Dad came home early."
I leaned forward.
"What did they say?"
Jordan looked toward the hallway.
Then back at me.
"They were arguing about your mother's death."
I went completely still.
"What?"
His voice trembled.
"Thomas said your mom should've stopped asking questions."
I felt cold.
"And Denise?"
Jordan began crying.
"She said they had already covered up enough."
I couldn't move.
I stared at my stepbrother.
"Jordan..."
He wiped his cheeks.
"I recorded part of the conversation."
My heart hammered.
"Where is it?"
He took out his phone.
May you like
Then whispered something that made my entire body shake.
"Maya, I think we need to show this to the police."
