Chapter 3 - MY STEPMOTHER’S SECRET ACCOUNT
Melissa looked as shocked as anyone.
For once, I believed her.
“What account?” she asked.
Dad said nothing.
Mr. Ellis turned the forensic report around.
The account had been opened eleven years earlier at a private bank in Columbus.
More than $600,000 had passed through it.
The name attached to it was Melissa Jane Mercer.
Her hands trembled.
“I have never banked there.”
Dad finally spoke.
“Don’t be dramatic.”
She looked at him.
“Did you open an account in my name?”
“It was for tax planning.”
“Did you forge my signature?”
Nobody moved.
Dad’s silence answered for him.
Melissa pushed away from the table.
Twenty-two years earlier, she had stood beside him while he told relatives I was unstable, selfish, and ungrateful.
I had hated her for helping him rewrite my life.
But watching her realize he had used her too felt strangely empty.
Blake’s face reddened.
“You forged Mom’s name?”
Dad pointed toward the door.
“This family discussion is finished.”
Mr. Ellis closed the door instead.
“As executor, Anna has authority to request all documents related to Evelyn’s property.”
Dad sneered.
“And if I refuse?”
“Then the probate court can compel you.”
I leaned forward.
“Grandma already expected you to refuse.”
That stopped him.
The forensic report documented payments from Grandma’s timber sales into companies controlled by Dad.
But several transfers went somewhere stranger.
A corporation called Northstar Holdings.
Blake leaned over the pages.
“I know that name.”
Everyone looked at him.
He swallowed.
“Dad uses Northstar for the lake development.”
My stomach tightened.
Grandma’s lake cottage.
The property I had refused to sign over when I was eighteen.
The reason Dad threw me out.
“What lake development?” I asked.
Blake went pale.
Dad stood so quickly his chair slammed into the wall.
“Blake, shut your mouth.”
That was all I needed to hear.
“What did he build?”
Blake looked from our father to me.
Then he did something I never expected.
He chose me.
“There are twelve luxury cabins on Grandma’s land.”
I felt cold.
Grandma had never mentioned cabins.
She believed the cottage and surrounding acreage were untouched.
Dad had apparently developed part of the land without telling her.
“How long?”
“Seven years.”
Mr. Ellis immediately began taking notes.
Dad moved toward Blake.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Blake stepped backward.
“I handled reservations last summer.”
Dad stopped.
I opened the county parcel map on my tablet.
The lake property remained legally titled to Evelyn Mercer.
No development permits appeared under her name.
But Northstar Holdings had advertised a private retreat online.
Twelve cabins.
Boat docks.
Wedding rentals.
Corporate retreats.
The estimated revenue was enormous.
Then Blake said something that made the entire room go silent again.
“There’s a thirteenth building.”
“What building?” I asked.
His eyes locked on mine.
May you like
“Dad’s private house.”
And according to Blake, Dad had built it exactly where Grandma once planned to build a home for me.
