Chapter 5: The Will My Mother Buried
I drove home with Sophie asleep in the back seat.
For almost twenty minutes, I couldn't stop thinking about Patricia's words.
Your father didn't leave that house to Margaret.
He left it to both his children.
My father had died six years earlier after a sudden heart attack. He had been a quiet man who loved gardening, old country music, and Sunday breakfasts with his family.
He wasn't wealthy, but he had worked hard for everything he owned.
His house had been his greatest achievement.
He bought it when Daniel and I were children, renovated the kitchen himself, and planted two enormous oak trees in the backyard.
Before he died, he had told me something I never forgot.
"Emily, money isn't what holds a family together. It's what people do when they think nobody is watching.""
At the time, I thought he was talking about honesty.
Now I wondered whether he had been warning me about my own mother.
My phone rang.
Daniel.
"Hey," I answered.
"Are you home?""
"Almost. Sophie fell asleep.""
He was quiet.
Then he said, "Can you come over tonight? I need someone I trust.""
"Of course.""
When I arrived at Daniel's house, the porch light was on.
The nursery window was visible from the driveway.
A pale blue curtain hung beside the window, and a wooden sign reading LITTLE ONE'S ROOM was attached to the door.
I had helped him paint that room.
Now it looked like a monument to a lie.
Daniel opened the front door.
He hadn't changed out of his clothes.
His eyes were red.
"Come in.""
The living room was full of baby shower gifts.
A mountain of pastel wrapping paper sat beside the couch. There were tiny clothes, stuffed animals, bottles, and a handmade blanket from our aunt.
Daniel picked up a small pair of white shoes.
"I bought these last week.""
I sat beside him.
"They're beautiful.""
He turned them over in his hands.
"I spent twenty minutes choosing them. I wanted something special for the day our baby came home.""
I didn't know what to say.
He placed the shoes back in the box.
"Did you believe her?""
I looked at him.
"Claire?""
"All of it. The pregnancy. The appointments. The baby.""
I hesitated.
"Yes.""
He nodded.
"Me too.""
He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
"Do you remember when Dad used to tell us we could always come to him with anything?""
"Every Sunday.""
"I wish he were here.""
My throat tightened.
"So do I.""
Daniel rubbed his face.
"Emily, I want to ask you something.""
"Anything.""
"Did you know Mom had changed the will?""
"No. I didn't even know there was another will.""
He nodded slowly.
"Patricia said she had seen it.""
"Why would she know?""
"Apparently, Mom hired her husband's legal assistant to help organize some property documents last year.""
I frowned.
"Why didn't she use Dad's original attorney?""
"Because he retired.""
Daniel stood and walked to the kitchen.
He returned with a folder.
"Look at this.""
Inside were copies of property tax records, insurance documents, and an old deed.
My father's name appeared at the top of several pages.
But the newest document showed the property transferred entirely into Margaret's name.
There was a signature dated three years earlier.
I studied it.
"Is this Dad's signature?""
Daniel shook his head.
"No. It's Mom's.""
"How could she transfer the property?""
"That's what I'm trying to understand.""
He pulled out his phone.
"I called the attorney who handled Dad's estate. He said the original will should still be on file somewhere.""
"Then we need to find it.""
Daniel nodded.
We searched through the folder for another hour.
There were bank statements, receipts, old tax returns, and handwritten notes.
Then I found something tucked inside a plastic sleeve.
A photograph.
It showed Dad standing in front of the house, holding a garden shovel. Daniel and I were children, standing on either side of him.
On the back, Dad had written:
For Daniel and Emily. Everything I build is for both of you.
I felt tears burn behind my eyes.
Daniel took the photograph from me.
"Mom kept this?""
"Apparently.""
He stared at it.
"She kept this while trying to give the house to Claire.""
Before I could respond, someone knocked on the front door.
Daniel frowned.
"Who is it?""
A man's voice answered.
"Mr. Daniel Carter? My name is Richard Hayes. I'm an attorney representing your mother.""
Daniel opened the door but didn't step aside.
"What do you want?""
The man held up a leather briefcase.
"Your mother asked me to deliver some documents and clarify the property arrangement.""
Daniel laughed.
"Of course she did.""
Richard glanced at me.
"Would you prefer to discuss this privately?""
"No," Daniel answered.
"She stays.""
The attorney entered and placed his briefcase on the coffee table.
He was in his late fifties, wore a navy suit, and had the calm expression of someone accustomed to difficult conversations.
He removed a document.
"Your mother informed me that a disagreement arose regarding the property transfer.""
"That's one way to describe it," Daniel replied.
Richard continued.
"She wishes to clarify that the proposed transfer was intended as a family gift. No fraudulent transaction was completed.""
I leaned forward.
"Then why was the agreement conditional on a child being born?""
Richard looked at me.
"That's a private legal matter.""
"Not when my inheritance is involved.""
He paused.
Daniel raised his eyebrows.
"Your inheritance?""
I explained what Patricia had told me.
Richard's expression changed slightly.
"Who told you about the original will?""
"Does it exist?""
He closed the folder.
"I cannot discuss confidential estate documents without reviewing my records.""
Daniel stood.
"Then review them.""
Richard looked uncomfortable.
"I would advise both of you not to make accusations until the facts are established.""
Daniel pointed toward the door.
"Then tell my mother to stop hiding behind lawyers.""
Richard gathered his briefcase.
Before leaving, he turned to me.
"Miss Emily, I would strongly recommend that you request a certified copy of your father's probate file.""
"Why?""
He hesitated.
"Because the property transfer may not have been legally valid.""
Then he walked out.
Daniel locked the door.
We looked at each other.
"Not legally valid?"" I repeated.
He nodded.
"Tomorrow, we're finding Dad's original attorney.""
But just as we began gathering the documents, my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number appeared.
Emily, don't trust Patricia. She didn't expose Claire because she suddenly grew a conscience.
Another message followed.
She did it because Claire refused to give her the money they promised her.
Then a photograph arrived.
It showed Patricia standing outside our mother's house.
Beside her was a man I recognized immediately.
My mother's attorney.
But what made my blood run cold was the date printed beneath the photograph.
May you like
It had been taken three weeks before the fake baby shower.
And Patricia was holding a document bearing my signature.
