Chapter 4: My Mother's Last Instructions
For several seconds, I couldn't take my eyes off the document in my father's hand.
My mother's signature.
I recognized it immediately.
She used to sign my birthday cards with a tiny heart beneath her name. She always said a signature should leave a little happiness behind.
But this document looked different.
It was formal, printed on thick cream-colored paper, and stamped with the seal of a law firm.
“What is that?”” I asked.
My father closed the envelope.
“Something that doesn't concern you right now.””
I stared at him.
“You just said it could change everything about our family.””
“I said your mother left instructions.””
“Then tell me what they are.””
Damon rubbed his jaw.
“Not here.””
Brielle appeared at the end of the hallway.
She was holding a glass of water, but her fingers tightened around it when she saw the envelope.
“What are you doing with that?””
My father turned.
“Brielle, I need to talk to Aaliyah.””
Her smile disappeared.
“About what?””
“Her mother's documents.””
For the first time since I had known her, Brielle looked genuinely uncomfortable.
She placed the glass on a nearby table.
“I thought we agreed those papers were private.””
“They are.””
“Then why are you showing them to her?””
I stepped forward.
“Because they're about my mother.””
Brielle looked at me.
“Aaliyah, your mother has been gone for eight years. Digging through old paperwork won't bring her back.””
I felt my hands curl into fists.
“Don't talk about her like that.””
My father raised his voice.
“Both of you, stop.””
Then he looked at Brielle.
“Go downstairs. I'll handle this.””
She didn't move.
“Damon, I really don't think that's a good idea.””
“Please.””
His tone was unusually firm.
Brielle stared at him for a moment before walking away.
But as she passed me, she whispered:
“You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.””
I watched her disappear down the stairs.
Then I turned to Dad.
“Tell me what Mom left.””
He looked at the envelope.
“Your mother established a trust before she died.””
I blinked.
“A trust?””
“Yes. It was supposed to provide for you.””
“What does that mean?””
“It means she arranged for certain assets to be transferred to you when you turned eighteen.””
I stared at him.
“What assets?””
He hesitated.
“Money. Investments. A property.””
My mouth fell open.
“A property?””
He nodded.
“Your mother inherited a commercial building from her family. She sold some of her other assets, invested the proceeds, and placed everything under a trust.””
I couldn't process it.
My mother had never been wealthy in the way Brielle liked to show off.
She drove an old blue sedan, shopped during sales, and packed homemade lunches.
But she had apparently spent years building something for me.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
My father's expression darkened.
“Because the arrangements were complicated.””
“That's not an answer.””
He looked away.
“Your mother wanted me to manage the trust until you became an adult.””
“And?””
“And there were disagreements about how certain funds should be handled.””
I stared at him.
“What disagreements?””
Before he could answer, Brielle's voice came from the staircase.
“Damon, the attorney is calling.””
My father turned sharply.
“Tell him I'll call back.””
Brielle descended two steps.
“He said it's urgent.””
Dad looked irritated.
Then he slipped the envelope into his jacket.
“I have to take this.””
I moved toward him.
“Dad, you can't just leave me with half an explanation.””
He stopped.
For a moment, I thought he might finally tell me everything.
Instead, he said, “Stay out of the attic until I figure this out.””
Then he walked downstairs.
I stood frozen.
Why would he specifically tell me to stay out of the attic?
I turned toward my bedroom.
Noah was waiting by the door.
“Did you hear?””
He nodded.
“Mom left you money?””
“Apparently.””
He frowned.
“Then why does Brielle look scared?””
I looked toward the staircase.
“That is exactly what I want to know.””
At 8:30 that evening, I heard voices coming from the study.
I was supposed to be doing homework, but I couldn't concentrate.
Noah had fallen asleep in my room.
His tablet was underneath his pillow.
I quietly opened my bedroom door.
The study was at the end of the downstairs hallway.
The door wasn't completely closed.
I heard Brielle first.
“You promised me those documents were handled.””
My father answered quietly.
“I thought they were.””
“You thought? Damon, do you understand what happens if that trust is reviewed?””
“Lower your voice.””
“I am not lowering my voice! Your daughter is seventeen. In a few months, she'll have access to everything.””
I stepped closer.
Brielle continued.
“And if she finds out what happened to the building's rental income, we're finished.””
My heart started pounding.
Rental income?
What had happened to the money?
My father spoke again.
“The money was used for family expenses.””
“Family expenses?”” Brielle laughed bitterly.
“You mean Sienna's tuition, the car, the renovations, and the vacations?””
I covered my mouth.
The silence that followed was terrifying.
Then Dad said something I would never forget.
“I never intended for it to go this far.””
Brielle replied immediately.
“But you signed the authorization.””
I backed away.
My heel touched the floorboard.
It creaked.
The conversation stopped.
“Who's there?”” Dad called.
I ran upstairs.
My heart hammered against my ribs.
I closed my bedroom door just as footsteps approached.
A few seconds later, someone knocked.
“Aaliyah.””
It was Brielle.
I didn't answer.
She knocked again.
“Open the door.””
I remained silent.
Then she spoke through the wood.
“You should understand something. Your mother wasn't the only person who made promises in this family.””
I stepped away from the door.
“What does that mean?”” I called.
Her voice became softer.
“It means you should stop asking questions about things you don't understand.””
Then her footsteps faded.
I sat on the bed, shaking.
Noah stirred.
“What's wrong?””
I looked at him.
“I think Dad used Mom's money.””
Noah sat up.
“For what?””
I swallowed.
“Everything Brielle and Sienna have.””
He looked horrified.
“But that money belongs to you.””
I nodded.
And suddenly, the broken plates made sense in a way I hadn't understood before.
Brielle wasn't simply trying to get rid of me because she disliked me.
She was trying to get rid of the person who would eventually inherit something she had already been using.
My phone vibrated.
An email had arrived.
The sender was an unfamiliar address, but the subject line made my breath catch.
*URGENT: CARTER FAMILY TRUST — CONFIDENTIAL BENEFICIARY NOTICE*
I opened it.
The email contained a single sentence.
Miss Carter, please do not sign any documents presented by your father or stepmother until you have spoken directly with our office.
Below it was a name.
*Margaret Ellis, Senior Trust Attorney.*
And attached was a scanned copy of a document.
The title read:
*NOTICE OF IRREGULAR WITHDRAWALS AND BENEFICIARY PROTECTION.*
I opened the attachment.
The first page showed several transactions.
The second showed a signature.
My father's signature.
But the third page contained something that made my blood run cold.
A withdrawal had been approved using a document that claimed I had already consented to releasing part of my inheritance.
The date was six months earlier.
May you like
I was only sixteen.
And I had never signed anything.
