I stayed in Dad's study, listening.
Thomas called my name again.
“Candace, I know you're up there.”
My hand remained on the desk.
I didn't answer.
The house seemed suddenly smaller than it had a minute earlier.
Thomas had been described to me as a man who handled business matters for Dad. A relative who knew the company inside out. Someone who had quietly disappeared from family life years ago.
Yet now he was standing downstairs in the house Dad had spent eleven years protecting.
I looked at Elaine's letter.
The warning sat on the page like a blade.
If Thomas ever comes looking for the papers, do not trust him.
I slipped the letter into my jacket.
Then I heard a chair move downstairs.
He wasn't leaving.
I walked toward the staircase.
“Why are you here?”
Thomas looked up.
He was older than the photograph I remembered, but the resemblance was unmistakable.
Vivian's brother.
His gray hair was neatly combed. His coat was expensive. His expression was calm.
Too calm.
“I wanted to talk.”
“At three in the morning?”
He glanced toward the clock.
“It isn't three.”
“Close enough.”
He smiled faintly.
“Your father used to say you had a sharp tongue.”
I stiffened.
“You knew me?”
“I've known about you for years.”
That sentence chilled me.
“What does that mean?”
Thomas stepped into the living room.
“Your father wasn't the only one keeping records.”
I stayed on the stairs.
“What do you want?”
“The papers.”
“Which papers?”
He smiled again.
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend you don't know.”
I thought about Elaine's warning.
“What papers?”
Thomas sighed.
“Your mother left documents.”
My pulse quickened.
“How do you know?”
“Because I was there when they were created.”
I came down another step.
“You were involved in my mother's affairs?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to her?”
Thomas looked toward the portrait of Dad.
“Your father believed I had something to do with her death.”
“Did you?”
He didn't answer.
That was answer enough.
“You did.”
“I didn't kill Elaine.”
“Then what did you do?”
“I made a mistake.”
“What mistake?”
He looked at me.
“I trusted the wrong person.”
“Who?”
He didn't respond.
I stepped into the room.
“You knew Vivian was lying.”
“Of course.”
“You knew Alyssa wasn't Dad's daughter.”
“Yes.”
“You knew Dad knew.”
“Yes.”
“And you knew my mother left something behind.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Thomas's expression hardened.
“Because I helped move it.”
My stomach tightened.
“Move what?”
“The original documents.”
“Where?”
He looked at the staircase.
“Your father's study wasn't the only place he kept records.”
I remembered the locked cabinet.
The hidden compartment.
The photographs.
The receipts.
“You've been searching this house.”
“No.”
“You're lying.”
“I've already searched it.”
That stopped me.
“When?”
“Before the funeral.”
I stared at him.
“You broke into Dad's house?”
“Your father gave me access.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Why?”
Thomas lowered his voice.
“Because William knew he couldn't trust anyone else.”
I almost laughed.
“That's convenient.”
“You think your father trusted me.”
“I think he was investigating you.”
“He was.”
“Then why give you access?”
Thomas looked at me.
“Because he wanted me to believe I had fooled him.”
I didn't understand.
“What?”
“He wanted me to show him what I would do if I thought I had control.”
A chill ran through me.
“Was this another one of his tests?”
“No.”
Thomas's expression changed.
“It was a trap.”
I stared at him.
“What did you steal?”
“Nothing.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I took copies.”
“Of what?”
“Financial records.”
“Why?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of Dad?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Thomas looked toward the front window.
“Vivian.”
The answer surprised me.
“She threatened you?”
“She knew what I'd done.”
“What had you done?”
Thomas sat down.
“I helped her move money.”
I folded my arms.
“How much?”
“Not all of it.”
“Two million?”
He nodded.
“Approximately.”
“Where did it go?”
“Different accounts.”
“Why?”
“Vivian wanted security.”
“She called it security.”
“She believed William would eventually leave everything to you.”
I stared at him.
“She knew?”
“Yes.”
“Before Dad died?”
“Yes.”
“Then the DNA test wasn't just Alyssa's idea.”
Thomas looked at me.
“No.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who planned it?”
“Vivian.”
I felt the room go cold.
“She told Alyssa to demand it.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“To make you look illegitimate.”
“She knew I was Dad's daughter.”
“Yes.”
“She knew the DNA would prove it.”
Thomas looked away.
“She didn't know how Dad had preserved the evidence.”
I remembered Mr. Bennett's explanation.
Dad had stored his own DNA.
He had documented everything.
He had prepared for exactly this challenge.
“What was Vivian hoping would happen?”
Thomas answered quietly.
“She thought if the test was delayed long enough, she could pressure you into settling.”
“Settling for what?”
“A fraction.”
“How much?”
“Almost nothing.”
I sat down.
For the first time, the money had meaning.
Not because I wanted it.
Because Dad had understood what Vivian intended to do.
Thomas reached into his coat.
I stood immediately.
“What are you doing?”
He removed a small flash drive.
“This contains copies of the records.”
I didn't take it.
“Why give it to me?”
“Because I can't keep protecting Vivian.”
“Why now?”
“Because William is dead.”
I stared at him.
“That doesn't answer my question.”
Thomas looked tired.
“Your father gave me one last chance.”
“What chance?”
“To tell you the truth before someone else did.”
“Did he know you were going to come tonight?”
“No.”
“Then why come?”
Thomas looked at Elaine's letter sticking slightly out of my jacket.
His eyes changed.
“You found it.”
“Yes.”
“Then you know.”
“I know my mother warned me about you.”
Thomas closed his eyes.
“She was right.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“What happened to her?”
He looked at me.
“Vivian wasn't the only person who wanted Elaine gone.”
The room went silent.
“Who else?”
“William.”
I stared.
“No.”
“He didn't want her dead.”
“Then what are you saying?”
“He wanted her gone from the family.”
“Why?”
“Because he was afraid of what would happen if Vivian learned Elaine had left you everything.”
I shook my head.
“You're saying Dad knew?”
“Yes.”
“He knew my mother was dying.”
“Yes.”
“He knew Vivian was angry.”
“Yes.”
“And he still married her.”
“He thought he could protect you.”
I looked away.
Every answer seemed to circle back to the same terrible mistake.
People had kept trying to protect me without asking what I needed.
“What did Vivian do to Elaine?”
Thomas hesitated.
“She gave her medication.”
I stared.
“What medication?”
“The wrong dose.”
My body went cold.
“By accident?”
Thomas didn't answer.
I whispered, “Did Vivian kill my mother?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“I know she gave Elaine something she shouldn't have.”
“What?”
“A sedative.”
“Why?”
“She said Elaine was agitated.”
I stared at him.
“And what happened?”
“Elaine never woke up.”
I closed my eyes.
The room seemed to tilt.
All these years, I'd believed my mother died because she was sick.
Now I was being told her death might have been caused by the woman who raised me.
Thomas continued.
“William suspected it.”
“Then why didn't he expose her?”
“Because he couldn't prove it.”
I looked at him.
“And you could?”
“No.”
“Then why did Dad keep investigating?”
“Because he found another piece.”
“What piece?”
Thomas hesitated.
“A hospital record.”
“What did it show?”
“That Elaine had received a medication she wasn't prescribed.”
My hands went numb.
“Where is it?”
Thomas shook his head.
“William kept the original.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“No.”
He stood.
“I came because I wanted you to know there was another document.”
“What document?”
“Your mother's original medical file.”
I looked at him.
“Dad had it?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Thomas glanced toward the study.
“Somewhere in that room.”
He started toward the door.
“Wait.”
He stopped.
“Why are you helping me?”
He looked back.
“Because William was right.”
“About what?”
“You deserved the truth.”
Then he left.
I waited until I heard the front door close.
Only then did I breathe.
I returned to the study.
The room looked exactly as it had before.
Books.
Desk.
Lamp.
Old photographs.
I searched the drawers.
Nothing.
I checked the cabinet.
Nothing.
Then I remembered something Dad used to say.
When you're looking for what someone doesn't want found, don't search where they put things.
Search where they worked.
I looked at his desk.
The wood had scratches near the bottom edge.
I knelt.
There was a narrow panel underneath.
I pressed it.
A compartment opened.
Inside was a file.
Elaine Harper.
My hands shook.
I pulled it out.
The first page was a hospital record.
The medication listed was not the sedative Thomas had mentioned.
It was something else.
Something Dad had circled in red.
The dosage was impossible.
Too high.
Fatal for someone in Elaine's condition.
I turned the page.
There was a handwritten note.
Not Dad's handwriting.
Vivian's.
I knew it immediately.
I read the sentence.
Give her enough to sleep. She won't know the difference.
I dropped the paper.
For years, I had believed my mother died from illness.
Now I was holding evidence that could prove she had been deliberately drugged.
And beneath Vivian's handwriting was another name.
Thomas.
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: The Medical File Revealed What Vivian Had Done to Elaine, but Dad’s Notes Suggested Someone Else Had Altered the Evidence
My Sister Demanded Proof I Was Dad’s Daughter, But the Lawyer Had Already Prepared Something She Never Expected
Part 6 of 20
