Chapter 6
The insurance payment changed everything.
Not because it proved someone had harmed Mama.
It didn't.
But because it revealed another connection between her death and the foundation Diane controlled.
Mr. Collins showed us the documents.
The foundation had purchased a professional liability policy covering certain work performed by outside consultants.
Mama had been one of those consultants.
After her death, the foundation submitted a claim involving interrupted work and alleged financial losses.
I stared at the paperwork.
"Does that mean they got money because Mama died?"
Mr. Collins answered carefully.
"They received a payment connected to a claim made after her death. We need to determine whether the claim was accurate."
Dad looked furious.
"Was Naomi listed as responsible for any losses?"
Mr. Collins nodded.
"Some documents suggest that."
I felt sick.
Mama had spent her final weeks trying to protect the foundation's money.
Now someone had apparently blamed her for problems after she died.
Lauren looked devastated.
"Did my mother sign the claim?"
Mr. Collins turned a page.
"Her signature appears on the submission."
Lauren closed her eyes.
I watched her carefully.
She loved Diane.
That much was obvious.
But she was beginning to see a side of her mother she hadn't known.
I understood how painful that could be.
I'd spent three years missing Mama.
Lauren was grieving someone who was still alive.
The mother she thought she knew.
Dad leaned toward the attorney.
"What happens now?"
Mr. Collins explained that the records should be reviewed by the insurer and appropriate investigators.
He also recommended an independent audit of the foundation.
Lauren nodded immediately.
"I'll cooperate."
Dad looked at her.
"Are you sure?"
She swallowed.
"Yes."
Then she looked toward me.
"Ava deserves the truth."
I felt tears rise.
Later that afternoon, Dad took me home.
Lauren went to speak with the foundation's board.
Before leaving, she hugged me.
"I'm sorry about yesterday."
I shook my head.
"You didn't take Mama's chair."
She looked at me.
"But I should've stopped my mother sooner."
I swallowed.
"You didn't know everything."
She nodded.
Then whispered, "Neither did you."
We hugged again.
At home, Dad made grilled cheese sandwiches.
He burned one side of mine.
Normally, I would've laughed.
But I was too tired.
We sat at the kitchen island.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked something I'd been holding inside.
"Dad, do you still want to marry Lauren?"
He stopped chewing.
"I don't know what happens next."
I looked down.
"Because of Diane?"
"Because Lauren and I need to rebuild trust after what happened."
I nodded.
Then he added, "But whatever happens, you don't have to solve it."
I looked up.
"Really?"
"Really."
He reached across the table.
"Your job is to be thirteen."
I smiled faintly.
"That's harder than it sounds."
He laughed softly.
"I know."
Then he became serious.
"Ava, I owe you an apology."
I stared at him.
"For what?"
"For waiting three weeks to tell you about the documents."
My throat tightened.
He continued.
"I thought I could understand everything first and spare you the confusion."
I looked down.
"But it made me feel like you didn't trust me."
His face softened.
"I know."
He paused.
"I was wrong."
I nodded.
That mattered.
Adults didn't always apologize to children.
Diane certainly never had.
Dad's apology didn't erase the hurt.
But it made me feel seen.
That evening, I went to my bedroom and opened Mama's letter.
I read it again.
And again.
Then I placed it beside her photograph.
For the first time, I felt as though I knew more about the woman she'd been before she died.
Not just my mother.
Not just the person who made breakfast and helped with homework.
A brave woman.
A woman who asked difficult questions.
A woman who refused to ignore missing money.
I wanted to be like her.
But I was also frightened.
What if telling the truth always made people angry?
What if doing the right thing meant losing people you loved?
I thought about Diane.
Lauren.
Dad.
The ruined wedding.
Then I remembered Mama's video.
Being brave doesn't mean you never cry.
I wiped my eyes.
Maybe courage wasn't about feeling certain.
Maybe it was about doing what mattered even when you were scared.
Over the following weeks, the foundation's board commissioned an independent audit.
The insurer began reviewing the claim.
Investigators received the relevant records through proper channels.
Diane denied wrongdoing.
She claimed Mama had misunderstood the accounting.
She accused Lauren of betraying her.
She called Dad repeatedly.
He stopped answering and directed communication through the appropriate people.
Lauren moved into her own apartment.
The wedding remained unfinished.
Dad and Lauren agreed to pause their plans while they worked through what had happened.
I missed her.
She'd been part of our lives for almost two years.
But I understood why things needed time.
One Saturday, Lauren called me.
"Hey, Ava."
"Hi."
Her voice sounded tired.
"How are you?"
I shrugged.
"Okay."
She hesitated.
"Would you like to get ice cream sometime?"
I looked toward Dad.
He was sitting nearby.
He nodded gently.
I swallowed.
"Maybe."
Lauren didn't push.
"That's okay."
Then she said something that surprised me.
"I want you to know you don't have to like me just because your dad does."
My eyes filled.
I hadn't realized how badly I needed to hear that.
She continued.
"And you don't have to pretend my mother didn't hurt you."
I swallowed.
"Thank you."
We talked for a few more minutes.
Then I ended the call.
Dad looked at me.
"How do you feel?"
I thought about it.
"Confused."
He nodded.
"That's allowed."
I smiled.
Then he hugged me.
A few days later, the audit team contacted Mr. Collins.
The preliminary findings showed that several foundation payments had been supported by altered or incomplete records.
Some transactions were linked to accounts Diane controlled.
The insurer also identified inconsistencies in the claim submitted after Mama's death.
The evidence was growing.
But the most shocking discovery came from an old computer backup.
Mama had kept a recording of a meeting with Diane.
A meeting that happened three days before the accident.
And when investigators reviewed the file, they found something nobody expected.
Diane hadn't been alone.
Another person had attended.
May you like
Someone whose name I knew.
Someone who had been standing beside us at the wedding reception.
