Chapter 4
I followed Vanessa into the hallway.
Daniel stayed beside our mother.
I could hear Mom crying softly behind us.
Vanessa walked quickly.
Her heels struck the wooden floor.
She reached her office door and turned.
"Marcus, this is ridiculous."
I stared at her.
"Open the door."
She folded her arms.
"Why?"
"Because Danielle's belongings are inside."
Vanessa laughed.
"You don't know that."
I took a slow breath.
"Then you won't mind showing me."
She hesitated.
Then shook her head.
"This is my office."
I looked around.
Our father's old study.
The room where he'd helped me with homework.
The room where he'd taught Daniel to balance a checkbook.
Now Vanessa had filled it with expensive furniture and locked cabinets.
I felt sick.
"This is Mom's house," I said.
Vanessa's face hardened.
"And I'm the one taking care of her."
I stared at her.
"That doesn't make her property yours."
She stepped closer.
"You're never here."
The accusation struck me.
I worked long hours.
I raised Lily alone.
I tried to balance everything.
But she was right about one thing.
I hadn't visited enough.
I hadn't noticed Mom becoming frightened.
And that failure hurt.
Still, it didn't give Vanessa permission to exploit her.
I looked directly into her eyes.
"You're right. I should've checked on Mom more often."
She looked surprised.
I continued.
"But that doesn't excuse what you've done."
Her expression changed.
"What exactly have I done?"
I took a breath.
"You humiliated my daughter."
She rolled her eyes.
"Again with the plate."
"You frightened our mother."
"She's confused."
"And you're hiding something Danielle left for Lily."
Vanessa's face went pale.
I stepped back.
"Open the door."
She stared at me.
Then suddenly, she laughed.
"You know what? Fine."
She unlocked the office.
I followed her inside.
The room smelled of expensive perfume.
A large desk stood near the window.
Several filing cabinets lined the wall.
Vanessa walked toward the closet.
Then opened it.
I held my breath.
Inside were boxes.
Handbags.
Old photographs.
And near the bottom shelf, something blue.
My heart stopped.
The box.
Danielle's box.
I recognized the butterfly immediately.
Vanessa reached for it.
Then hesitated.
I stepped closer.
"Give it to me."
She turned.
"Marcus, you need to understand something."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"Danielle left instructions."
My stomach tightened.
"What instructions?"
Vanessa looked down.
"About Lily."
I felt cold.
"Then let me see them."
She shook her head.
"They weren't for you."
I stared at her.
"Vanessa, my wife is dead."
Her expression flickered.
I continued.
"She can't explain herself. She can't defend her choices."
My voice broke.
"But our daughter is alive. And you're using something Danielle left her to make her afraid."
Vanessa swallowed.
For a moment, she looked ashamed.
Then her face hardened again.
"You're making assumptions."
I took a breath.
"Then prove me wrong."
She stared at me.
Then slowly handed over the box.
My hands trembled.
It was heavier than I remembered.
The blue paint was slightly scratched.
The butterfly still smiled from the lid.
I felt tears gather.
Danielle had loved this box.
She kept little treasures inside.
Our first movie ticket.
The bracelet I gave her on our second anniversary.
A photograph of Lily's first smile.
I gently touched the butterfly.
For a moment, I could almost hear my wife's laughter.
Then Vanessa spoke.
"Don't open it here."
I looked up.
"Why?"
She swallowed.
"Because Mom doesn't know everything."
My stomach tightened.
I stared at her.
"What are you talking about?"
She looked toward the hallway.
Then whispered, "Danielle left money."
I froze.
"Money?"
Vanessa nodded.
"For Lily."
I stared at her.
"What kind of money?"
She hesitated.
"A trust."
My heart began pounding.
I knew Danielle had life insurance.
We'd discussed it before her death.
But she'd also inherited money from her grandmother.
She'd kept those funds separate.
I'd never asked how much remained.
It was hers.
Now Vanessa was telling me she'd created a trust for Lily.
I looked at the box.
"How much?"
Vanessa looked away.
"I don't remember."
I didn't believe her.
I opened the lid.
Inside were several envelopes.
Photographs.
A small silver necklace.
And a thick folder.
I reached for it.
Vanessa immediately grabbed my wrist.
"Marcus, don't."
I pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
She stepped back.
I opened the folder.
The first page contained Danielle's handwriting.
FOR MY BEAUTIFUL LILY.
My vision blurred.
I sat down.
Then began reading.
"My sweet girl, if you're holding this letter, it means you've grown older without me beside you."
I stopped.
Tears rolled down my face.
I could barely breathe.
I continued.
"I want you to know that every day I spent as your mother was the greatest gift of my life."
My shoulders shook.
I remembered Danielle writing late at night.
I'd assumed she was keeping a journal.
Now I knew.
She'd been preparing messages for our daughter.
I turned the page.
There were letters for Lily's birthdays.
Her first day of high school.
Her graduation.
Her wedding day.
Each envelope was carefully labeled.
I covered my mouth.
Danielle had known she might not survive.
And she'd tried to leave pieces of herself behind.
I looked at Vanessa.
"Why did you hide this?"
Her eyes filled.
"I wasn't hiding it."
I stared at her.
"Lily was supposed to receive these letters."
Vanessa shook her head.
"Not until she was older."
I looked down.
Some envelopes were labeled for future milestones.
But another was marked:
FOR LILY'S SEVENTH BIRTHDAY.
My stomach dropped.
Lily had turned seven three months earlier.
I stared at Vanessa.
"Her birthday was in August."
Vanessa looked away.
I held up the envelope.
"Why didn't she get this?"
She didn't answer.
I felt anger rise.
"Vanessa."
She whispered, "I forgot."
I stared at her.
"You forgot?"
She began crying.
"I'm dealing with everything around here!"
I shook my head.
"Don't."
My voice was cold.
"Don't use Mom's health as an excuse."
I opened the financial folder beneath the letters.
Then froze.
A trust statement.
Danielle had established a custodial arrangement for Lily's benefit.
The documents listed a substantial investment account.
I stared at the balance.
Nearly six hundred thousand dollars.
My heart pounded.
Then I saw something else.
A recent withdrawal.
Fifty thousand dollars.
I looked at the date.
Three months earlier.
The same week Lily turned seven.
I stared at Vanessa.
My hands began shaking.
"What is this?"
She went pale.
I held up the statement.
"Why was fifty thousand dollars withdrawn from Lily's account?"
Vanessa took a step backward.
"Marcus, I can explain."
I stood.
My voice became dangerously quiet.
"Then explain."
She looked toward the door.
Then whispered, "I borrowed it."
I couldn't breathe.
Borrowed?
From my seven-year-old daughter?
I stared at the woman who'd just humiliated Lily over a plate of food.
And suddenly, I understood why Vanessa had been so desperate to keep the box hidden.
It wasn't only about Danielle's letters.
It was about money.
Money my wife had left to protect our daughter.
May you like
Money Vanessa had apparently taken.
And I was about to discover where it had gone.
