Chapter 10 - THE BROTHER MY FATHER NEVER KNEW
I had spent my entire life believing the Whitcomb and Voss families were unrelated.
Now I was holding a letter suggesting my father was Harrison Voss's biological son.
I stared at Arthur.
"Is this true?"
He looked down.
"Your grandmother believed it."
"Believed?"
"She obtained records, but some details were never independently confirmed."
I took a breath.
"Then we need to verify them."
Vivian nodded.
"Exactly."
The investigation uncovered old correspondence between James Whitcomb and Harrison Voss.
Decades earlier, Harrison had been involved with a young woman named Margaret Bell.
She gave birth to a son.
Thomas.
But Margaret died shortly afterward.
James Whitcomb, a close friend of Margaret's family, helped arrange for the child to be raised within the Whitcomb household.
The arrangement was complicated.
And several documents had been altered.
I stared at the records.
"My father never knew?"
Arthur shook his head.
"Not as far as I know."
I felt sick.
Harrison had spent years fighting my grandmother for property rights.
But beneath the legal disputes lay a secret that could have changed everything.
He had a son.
A son raised by another family.
A son who became my father.
And now Harrison's daughter Sloane was trying to marry my husband and claim my grandmother's home.
I looked toward Vivian.
"Does Sloane know?"
"We don't know."
Then Arthur spoke.
"There's another complication."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"Harrison's current wife had a daughter from her previous marriage."
I stared.
"Sloane?"
Arthur nodded.
"Harrison adopted her when she was four."
I exhaled slowly.
That meant Sloane and I weren't necessarily related by blood.
But the family connections were far more tangled than I'd imagined.
Vivian reviewed the documents.
"Harrison may have believed the Whitcombs kept his son from him."
I looked down.
"Maybe that's why he hated Grandmother."
Arthur nodded sadly.
"Possibly."
Then Rosa entered carrying a small box.
"I found this with your grandmother's papers."
I opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
My father as a little boy.
He stood beside James Whitcomb.
Both were smiling.
On the back was a handwritten note.
Thomas deserves a childhood free from the mistakes of adults.
My eyes filled.
For the first time, I saw the family secret as something more than a legal dispute.
It was a tragedy.
Adults making choices.
Children living with the consequences.
But then Vivian received an urgent call.
Her expression changed.
"What?"
She listened.
Then looked toward me.
"Nora, we have new information about the forged trust documents."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"The signatures weren't created by Sloane."
I stared.
"Then who?"
Vivian took a breath.
"Camden."
I felt cold.
She continued.
"He personally submitted the documents."
I stared.
May you like
My husband hadn't simply followed his mistress.
He had been directing the fraud himself.
