Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN IN THE OLD PHOTOGRAPH
That afternoon, we drove to the house where my mother had lived before she died.
It had been empty for years.
The property sat behind a row of old oak trees, untouched since the estate had been settled.
I remembered playing there as a child.
I remembered my mother's perfume.
Her books.
Her laughter.
I didn't remember fear.
Until I walked into her bedroom.
The room smelled like dust and cedar.
Evelyn began examining the shelves.
I opened drawers.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a painting hanging above the fireplace.
It was one I had seen hundreds of times.
A landscape.
A lake.
A woman standing beside the water.
I had always assumed the woman was my mother.
But now I looked closer.
She wasn't alone.
There was a man standing behind her.
His face had been painted over.
I touched the canvas.
“Who is that?”
Evelyn stepped closer.
“I don't know.”
I examined the frame.
Something rattled inside.
We removed it from the wall.
Behind the painting was a narrow compartment.
Inside was a metal box.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
There were photographs.
Letters.
A passport.
And a handwritten journal.
The first page contained my mother's handwriting.
If you're reading this, then I wasn't wrong to be afraid.
I sat on the floor.
Evelyn read over my shoulder.
There are people who believe my company belongs to them.
They believe my daughter is only an heir.
They don't understand that she is the key.
I turned the page.
Another entry.
Marcus knows more than he admits.
My heart stopped.
“That's impossible.”
The entry was dated eleven years earlier.
Three years before I met Marcus.
Evelyn stared at me.
“He knew your family before you met him.”
I continued reading.
He has been asking questions about the trust.
He claims he is interested in my daughter.
I don't believe him.
A cold sensation moved through me.
Then I found a photograph.
My mother was standing beside a younger Marcus.
He was barely twenty-five.
Behind them was a corporate conference room.
On the back of the photograph were four words.
HE CAME LOOKING FOR IT.
I dropped it.
“No.”
Evelyn picked it up.
“Your mother knew him.”
“Before I met him.”
“Yes.”
My mind raced.
Then I remembered the first time Marcus had met my mother.
He had seemed nervous.
I had thought it was because he wanted her approval.
Now I understood.
He wasn't meeting his future mother-in-law.
He was meeting the woman who controlled the fortune he wanted.
I turned another page.
The final entry was only three sentences.
If anything happens to me, trust Evelyn.
Never trust Marcus.
And never let Tessa near the original trust documents.
I stared at the page.
“Evelyn…”
She didn't respond.
I looked at her.
“You knew my mother?”
She closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“I was her attorney.”
My chest tightened.
“And you knew about Marcus?”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn't you stop him?”
Her voice broke.
“Because your mother made me promise something.”
“What?”
“To wait until you were ready.”
Suddenly, the front door slammed.
We both froze.
Footsteps echoed through the hallway.
Someone was inside.
Evelyn whispered:
“Put the journal away.”
The footsteps came closer.
Then a man's voice called from downstairs.
“Evelyn?”
My blood ran cold.
It was Marcus.
But he wasn't alone.
A woman's voice followed.
Tessa.
I looked at Evelyn.
She pointed toward the hidden passage behind the wardrobe.
“Go.”
“What about you?”
“I'll slow them down.”
“No.”
She grabbed my arm.
“If they find that journal, your mother's last secret dies with it.”
I slipped into the darkness.
And just before the hidden door closed, I heard Marcus say:
“She found the box.”
May you like
Tessa answered:
“Then we have to make sure she never leaves this house.”
