Chapter 2
I didn't remember walking away from the altar.
One moment, I was standing beneath the flowers.
The next, I was sitting inside the bridal suite with my mother's letter spread across my lap.
My veil lay on the dressing table.
The tiara was still pinned to my hair.
Outside, guests were whispering.
Someone knocked.
"Nia?"
It was Marcus.
I didn't answer.
"Nia, please let me explain."
I stared at the photograph.
My mother.
My father.
Bernard Cole.
Three people standing together outside a law office fifteen years earlier.
Three people who apparently knew something that had changed my entire life.
"Did you know?" I asked through the door.
Marcus went silent.
My stomach tightened.
"Marcus, did you know your father was involved?"
"I knew there were some old documents."
My heart stopped.
"What documents?"
He took a breath.
"Please open the door."
I stood.
Then I unlocked it.
Marcus entered slowly.
His face was pale.
The handsome, confident man who had kissed my forehead that morning now looked like a stranger.
I held up the photograph.
"Tell me everything."
He stared at it.
"About six weeks ago, I found some files in my father's old office."
I felt cold.
"Six weeks?"
He nodded.
"His business partner was closing the storage room. He asked me to collect anything personal."
"And?"
"One folder had your mother's name."
My mouth fell open.
"You found a folder with my mother's name six weeks ago and didn't tell me?"
"Nia, I didn't understand what it meant."
"Then why didn't you ask me?"
He looked away.
That was enough.
I stood.
"You were hiding something."
"I was trying to verify it before upsetting you."
I laughed bitterly.
"That's what everyone keeps saying."
Marcus stepped closer.
"Please."
I moved backward.
"No. My father disappears. My mother dies. And fifteen years later, I discover your father was connected to both of them."
My voice broke.
"You had six weeks to tell me."
He lowered his head.
"You're right."
I stared at him.
That simple admission hurt almost as much as a lie.
Because it meant he understood.
He had chosen silence anyway.
Another knock sounded.
Arthur's voice came through the door.
"Nia?"
I turned.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Then I opened it.
My father stood in the hallway.
Behind him was Aunt Vivian.
She wore a dark-blue dress and the same pearl earrings she had worn at every important event in my life.
Vivian had raised me after my mother's death.
She attended school meetings.
Helped me apply for college.
Held my hand when I cried.
She had been my substitute mother.
And now she was staring at Arthur with open hatred.
"How dare you come here?" she hissed.
Arthur stepped backward.
"Vivian."
"You promised you would stay away!"
The words struck me.
I looked at her.
"What?"
Vivian froze.
Arthur's face changed.
"You told her I abandoned her."
Vivian raised her chin.
"You did."
"No," he whispered. "I was in prison."
The room fell silent.
I stared at him.
"What?"
Arthur looked at me.
His eyes filled.
"Nine years, Nia."
My knees weakened.
Marcus reached toward me.
I pulled away.
Arthur continued.
"I was convicted of stealing money from the company I helped build."
I shook my head.
"No."
"I was innocent."
Vivian laughed.
"That's what every criminal says."
Arthur looked at her.
"You know exactly what happened."
I turned toward my aunt.
"Did you know he was in prison?"
She didn't answer.
"Aunt Vivian?"
Her face tightened.
"Your father made terrible choices."
"That wasn't my question!"
She flinched.
I had never shouted at her before.
I didn't care.
"Did you know?"
Finally, she nodded.
"Yes."
The room seemed to tilt.
For fifteen years, Vivian had told me Arthur ran away.
She said he didn't love me enough to stay.
She told me he had chosen money over his family.
And she knew he was in prison.
I pressed my hand against the wall.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because you were thirteen. You had already lost your mother."
"So you let me believe my father didn't want me?"
Vivian looked at Arthur.
"He wasn't fit to raise you."
Arthur's expression hardened.
"You kept every letter I sent."
My heart stopped.
"Letters?"
He turned toward me.
"I wrote every month."
I stared at him.
"Every month?"
He nodded.
"Birthdays. Christmas. Your graduation."
Tears streamed down my face.
"I never received anything."
"I know."
I looked at Vivian.
She folded her arms.
"I was protecting you."
I began shaking.
"From my own father?"
"From disappointment."
I could barely breathe.
Then Arthur spoke.
"Ask her about your mother's trust."
Vivian went completely still.
I looked between them.
"What trust?"
Arthur pulled another document from the envelope.
"Your mother inherited property from her parents. She also owned shares in our family business."
I stared at him.
"She never told me."
"You were a child."
Arthur handed me a statement.
The figures made my eyes widen.
Land.
Commercial property.
Investment accounts.
My mother had owned assets worth more than two million dollars.
I looked up.
"Where is all of this?"
Arthur's expression darkened.
"That's what I've spent six years trying to discover."
Vivian suddenly stepped forward.
"Enough."
I turned toward her.
She pointed at Arthur.
"This man is manipulating you."
I looked at the legal document.
Bernard Cole's signature appeared near the bottom.
Below it was another name.
Vivian Ellis.
My aunt.
Her signature was dated three weeks after my mother's death.
I felt sick.
"What did you sign?"
Vivian's face went pale.
"That was a guardianship arrangement."
Arthur shook his head.
"It was more than that."
Marcus took the document.
He studied it.
Then his expression changed.
"Nia..."
I looked at him.
"What?"
He swallowed.
"This document transferred control of your mother's assets into a temporary trust."
I stared at Vivian.
"For my benefit?"
She nodded quickly.
"Of course."
Marcus continued.
"But the trust's controlling administrator wasn't Arthur."
I looked at the paper.
"Who was it?"
He lowered his eyes.
"Vivian."
My heart pounded.
Arthur stepped closer.
"And Bernard Cole was the attorney who certified everything."
I stared at my aunt.
She had controlled my life for fifteen years.
My school.
My home.
My friendships.
My access to my father.
And apparently, my mother's fortune.
Then I remembered something.
Three months earlier, Vivian had insisted that Marcus and I marry before my twenty-ninth birthday.
She said she wanted to see me settled.
She had even offered to pay for the wedding.
I turned toward her.
"Why were you so desperate for us to marry this year?"
Her lips parted.
No answer came.
Marcus looked at the document again.
Then he whispered, "Because there's a review clause."
I faced him.
"What review clause?"
He pointed toward the final paragraph.
"The trust requires a full accounting before your twenty-ninth birthday."
My wedding was happening eleven days before that birthday.
I looked at Vivian.
She had arranged the venue.
The flowers.
The guest list.
Almost everything.
And suddenly, I understood why she had been so eager for me to begin a new life.
She wanted me distracted.
But distracted from what?
Arthur stepped closer.
"Nia, your mother's letter tells you where to find the answer."
I looked down.
At the bottom of the second page, my mother had written an address.
A small house in Savannah.
The house where she grew up.
Then I read the final sentence.
"Before you decide whom to trust, open the blue room."
I stared at Arthur.
"What is the blue room?"
His face changed.
For the first time, he looked frightened.
"Your mother never told me what she kept there."
Vivian suddenly grabbed my wrist.
"You're not going to Savannah."
I pulled away.
"Why?"
Her voice rose.
"Because that house is dangerous!"
I stared at her.
"What's in it?"
She shook her head.
May you like
Then Arthur whispered, "Something your mother died trying to protect."
And for the first time, I wondered whether my mother's death had been as simple as everyone claimed.
