Chapter 5 - The Family Secret
The next forty-eight hours changed everything.
I hired a private investigative team.
Not because I wanted revenge.
Because I needed the truth.
They reviewed Julian's records.
His phone data.
Insurance files.
Company transactions.
Medical reports.
And eventually, they found something.
Three months before Julian died, my mother had contacted him.
Not once.
Seven times.
Why?
We didn't know.
Then they found payments.
Small amounts at first.
Five hundred dollars.
Two thousand.
Ten thousand.
All transferred to an account connected to Valerie's husband.
I stared at the report.
My mother had been taking money from Julian.
“How much?”
The investigator hesitated.
“Approximately $280,000.”
I closed my eyes.
That wasn't the biggest discovery.
Two weeks before Julian's death, my mother had asked him for another $100,000.
He refused.
The next day, she threatened to tell me that he had been hiding money from me.
But Julian didn't hide it.
He documented everything.
Then came the shocking part.
The account used to receive the money belonged to a company controlled by Valerie's husband.
I called Valerie.
She answered angrily.
“What?”
“Did Julian ever give your husband money?”
Silence.
“Valerie?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
“I was told it was a business investment.”
“By whom?”
She hung up.
I called again.
No answer.
That evening, Valerie arrived at my house.
She looked terrified.
“I didn't know,” she said.
“Didn't know what?”
“That Mom was taking money from Julian.”
“How much did you know?”
“Some.”
I stared at her.
“How much?”
She began crying.
“I knew about the first payments.”
“Why?”
“Because Mark's business was failing.”
“So Mom stole from my husband to save your marriage.”
“I didn't ask her to.”
“But you accepted it.”
She looked down.
“Yes.”
I felt something break inside me.
“You let me believe you were the successful daughter.”
“I never said that.”
“You didn't have to.”
She wiped her eyes.
“Clara, I was jealous.”
“Of what?”
“Everything.”
I said nothing.
“You had Julian.”
“You had Mom.”
“That isn't the same.”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“It isn't.”
For the first time, Valerie admitted something I'd never heard.
“Mom always compared us.”
“I know.”
“She told me I was supposed to be the successful one.”
“Why?”
“Because she thought you were too emotional.”
I laughed sadly.
“So you became the daughter she wanted.”
“I tried.”
“And Matthew?”
Valerie looked ashamed.
“She doesn't like that he reminds her of Julian.”
That sentence hit me.
“What?”
“She blames him.”
“For what?”
“For taking you away.”
I stared at her.
“That isn't Matthew's fault.”
“I know.”
“You know.”
“Yes.”
“Then why didn't you stop her?”
Valerie cried.
“Because I was afraid she'd stop loving me.”
I looked at my sister.
And suddenly I understood.
My mother hadn't only controlled me.
She had controlled everyone.
But understanding wasn't forgiveness.
Not yet.
The investigation continued.
Then we found the final piece.
A security camera from a gas station near the road where Julian died.
The footage was damaged.
But one frame remained.
A black sedan.
My mother's car.
At 11:43 p.m.
Twenty minutes before Julian's crash.
I stared at the image.
My mother had told police she was home that night.
She had lied.
I called Ethan.
“I want the police involved.”
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
“And your family?”
“I don't care.”
But before we could proceed, another discovery surfaced.
The black sedan wasn't my mother's.
It belonged to Valerie.
My sister.
I sat frozen.
Valerie had lied too.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice said:
“You're looking in the wrong direction.”
“Who are you?”
“Someone who knew Julian.”
“What happened that night?”
“He wasn't killed because of money.”
My heart stopped.
“Then why?”
The caller paused.
“Because he discovered what your mother was planning.”
“What was she planning?”
The line went dead.
I stared at the phone.
Then a text arrived.
ASK YOUR FATHER ABOUT THE SAFE-DEPOSIT BOX.
I immediately called Dad.
“Dad, what safe-deposit box?”
Silence.
“Dad?”
Finally he said:
“I was hoping you'd never find it.”
“Where is it?”
“At First National Bank.”
“What's inside?”
May you like
He whispered:
“Proof that your mother lied about everything.”
