Chapter 6 - THE MONEY THEY TOOK BEFORE THEY LEFT
I had worked through college because I believed there was no other choice.
Some nights, I cleaned offices until midnight.
On weekends, I helped Grandpa repair furniture for neighbors.
I took classes at the community college and slowly saved toward an architectural restoration program.
All the while, my parents had apparently spent the money Grandma Nora intended for me.
I stared at the old account statements.
“Can we get it back?”
Rebecca answered carefully.
“We'll have an attorney who specializes in these matters review the records, the account terms, and any applicable filing deadlines. I don't want to promise a legal outcome before that.”
It wasn't the satisfying answer I wanted.
But Grandpa had taught me to prefer the truth over comforting promises.
“Did he try to recover it?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he?”
“Richard and Diane had already spent most of it. Harold was primarily concerned with establishing a stable home for you.”
I looked around the study.
He had given me something my parents hadn't.
Consistency.
But I still hated that he'd had to sacrifice so much because of them.
That afternoon, Brianna arrived alone.
No sunglasses.
No designer handbag.
Just jeans and a sweatshirt.
She stopped in the doorway.
“Mom says you're suing them.”
“I'm investigating documents that appear to have been forged.”
“She says you're trying to have them arrested.”
I folded my arms.
“Did she tell you why?”
Brianna looked away.
Then she noticed the letters on Grandpa's desk.
“What's all that?”
“Letters Grandpa wrote to you.”
Her expression changed.
“He never wrote me.”
“He did.”
I handed her the first envelope.
She read it.
Then the next.
And the next.
Her breathing became uneven.
“These are fake.”
“Look at the stamps.”
She turned the envelopes over.
Some were seventeen years old.
Others were more recent.
Grandpa had never stopped trying to build a relationship with her.
Brianna sat down.
“Mom told me he wanted nothing to do with us.”
I said nothing.
“She said he only loved you.”
My chest tightened.
“He loved you too.”
Her eyes filled.
For a moment, she looked less like the arrogant sister who had claimed Grandpa's bedroom and more like a confused little girl who had been lied to her entire life.
Then she found a photograph.
Grandpa and me standing beside the apple orchard.
On the back he'd written:
I hope someday both my granddaughters will be here together.
Brianna covered her mouth.
“Why would Mom hide these?”
I knew the answer.
Because if Brianna knew Grandpa loved her, she might start questioning the story our parents had told.
And questions were dangerous to people who relied on lies.
Before I could respond, Brianna's phone rang.
Mom.
She answered.
I could hear my mother's voice even without the speaker.
“Did you find it?”
Brianna frowned.
“Find what?”
“The small safe behind Harold's study bookcase. Your father says he kept important documents there.”
My stomach tightened.
Mom continued.
“Don't leave that house until you have whatever is inside.”
Brianna slowly looked at me.
I looked toward Grandpa's bookcase.
He had always kept one shelf locked.
I had never questioned it.
May you like
And suddenly I realized my parents hadn't sent Brianna back to apologize.
They had sent her to search Grandpa's study.
Related Stories
