Chapter 8: The Woman Who Entered Our Family With a Plan
I stared at the signature.
Brielle Carter.
My stepmother.
The woman who had spent six years telling me I was lucky she had accepted me into her family.
The woman who had slapped me in front of my father.
The woman who had tried to make me sign away my rights.
She had signed the first withdrawal.
Not Dad.
Not some anonymous financial officer.
Brielle.
“That's impossible,” I whispered.
Margaret adjusted her glasses.
“The document indicates that your mother temporarily granted Brielle limited administrative access during a short period when she was considering a joint investment.””
Renee looked horrified.
“My sister would never have agreed to that if she knew what Brielle intended.””
“Perhaps she didn't,” Margaret replied.
I pointed at the document.
“But why would Mom give her access?””
Margaret turned another page.
“Your mother believed Brielle was assisting with a property investment. The authority was restricted to one specific transaction. It was never intended to permit withdrawals for personal use.””
I felt sick.
“So Brielle used that access to take the money?””
“The records suggest that she initiated the first transfer. After your mother's death, further transactions were processed through accounts controlled by your father.””
I lowered my head.
The truth was worse than I had imagined.
Brielle had been involved before the wedding.
She had entered our home knowing my mother had died, knowing the trust existed, and knowing that I would eventually become its beneficiary.
I looked at Renee.
“Did Mom ever tell you she trusted Brielle?””
Renee shook her head.
“She told me she was worried about her.””
Margaret gathered the documents.
“We need to preserve all these records. I'm requesting an independent review of the trust and the suspicious transfers.””
“Can Brielle stop you?””
“No. But she may attempt to interfere, which is why we need to act carefully.””
Noah tugged my sleeve.
“Aaliyah?””
I looked down.
“Yeah?””
“Remember the message she sent me?””
I nodded.
The one demanding that he delete the video.
He unlocked his tablet.
“I think I know why she was so scared.””
He opened the recording again.
Then he paused it just before Sienna knocked the plates off the counter.
He zoomed in on the reflection in the oven door.
“Look at Brielle's hand.””
I leaned closer.
At first, I couldn't see anything.
Then Noah increased the brightness.
Brielle was holding a small rectangular object.
A phone.
She appeared to be looking at the screen while standing in the hallway.
Noah moved the video forward frame by frame.
“Look.””
A message appeared briefly on the phone.
We couldn't read all of it, but one line was visible.
*Make sure she leaves before the appointment.*
I felt my stomach drop.
“The appointment?””
Margaret leaned closer.
“Can you enlarge that?””
Noah tried.
The image became pixelated, but another word appeared.
*TRUSTEE.*
Renee covered her mouth.
I looked at Margaret.
“Was there an appointment scheduled?””
Margaret checked her calendar.
Then she froze.
“Yes.””
She turned her laptop toward us.
“Your father and Brielle were scheduled to meet the trustee tomorrow morning.””
“Why?””
Margaret opened the appointment notes.
The purpose of the meeting was listed as:
*BENEFICIARY STATUS REVIEW AND PROPOSED CHANGE OF ADMINISTRATION.*
I stared at the screen.
“What does that mean?””
Margaret's expression turned serious.
“It means they may have intended to request changes to how the trust is managed.””
“Could they remove me?””
“Not without proper legal authority. Your mother was very specific about your beneficiary rights.””
I looked at the recording again.
The message suddenly made sense.
They wanted me out of the house before the appointment.
They wanted me frightened, isolated, and desperate enough to sign whatever they placed in front of me.
And if I had left for Aunt Renee's house without questioning anything, they might have continued controlling the situation.
Margaret picked up her phone.
“I am contacting the trustee now. This meeting needs to be postponed until the records have been reviewed.””
But before she could make the call, my phone rang.
Sienna.
I stared at the screen.
Why would she be calling me?
I answered.
“What?””
Her voice was unusually quiet.
“Aaliyah, where are you?””
“Why?””
“Are you with Aunt Renee?””
I looked at Renee.
“Yes.””
Sienna exhaled.
“Listen. You need to come home.””
I almost laughed.
“Are you serious?””
“I'm not joking.””
“Then tell me what's going on.””
She hesitated.
“Mom is destroying things in the attic.””
My heart stopped.
“What things?””
“Your mother's boxes. She's throwing papers into the fireplace.””
I stood so quickly that my chair scraped against the floor.
“What?””
Sienna spoke faster.
“I told her to stop, but she won't listen.””
I looked at Margaret.
“She can't destroy those documents.””
Margaret immediately reached for her phone.
“Don't go there alone.””
I grabbed my backpack.
“She's destroying evidence.””
Margaret stood.
“We're contacting the appropriate authorities. You need to let us handle this.””
But Sienna's next words made everything worse.
“There's something else.””
“What?””
“Mom found a letter from Grandma.””
I froze.
“My grandmother?””
“Yes. Your mom's mother. It's in one of the boxes.””
I looked at Renee.
She had gone completely still.
“What letter?”” I asked.
Sienna lowered her voice.
“It's about the house.””
I frowned.
“What house?””
“The one your mother owned before she married Dad.””
My heart pounded.
“Why does that matter?””
“Because Mom keeps saying that the house should have belonged to her.””
The room went silent.
Renee slowly sat down.
I turned toward her.
“What is Sienna talking about?””
Renee looked at me with an expression I couldn't understand.
Then she whispered:
“Your mother didn't inherit just one property.””
I felt my breath catch.
“What?””
Renee nodded.
“Your grandmother left her two properties. The commercial building and the family house.””
I looked at Margaret.
“Is that true?””
Margaret checked the trust documents.
“Yes. The residential property is listed separately. It was transferred into a protected arrangement for your benefit.””
I stared at her.
“So Brielle wanted that too?””
Margaret nodded.
“The records suggest she has attempted to establish a financial interest in both properties.””
I looked at my phone.
Sienna was still on the line.
“Why are you telling me this?”” I asked.
She didn't answer immediately.
Then she whispered:
“Because I found something else in Mom's bedroom.””
“What?””
“A folder with my name on it.””
My stomach tightened.
“What was inside?””
Sienna's voice cracked.
“A bank statement. And a letter.””
“What letter?””
She took a shaky breath.
“Mom wrote that if you ever found out about the trust, I was supposed to tell you that she never intended to share anything with me.””
I closed my eyes.
Then Sienna said something even more disturbing.
“She wrote that Dad had promised to marry her before he ever met you.””
I couldn't speak.
Sienna continued.
“And Aaliyah…”
“Yeah?””
“I think Mom knew your mother was still alive when she first started seeing Dad.””
The call ended.
I stared at my phone.
For six years, Brielle had told everyone she was the woman who rescued our family after tragedy.
But what if she hadn't entered our lives after my mother's death by coincidence?
What if she had been waiting for it?
Margaret closed her folder.
“We need to investigate everything.””
Then my phone vibrated again.
A message from Sienna appeared.
It contained a photograph of a handwritten letter.
At the top was a date.
*October 12.*
Two days before my mother died.
May you like
And the first sentence read:
Damon, I know you told me Aaliyah's mother would never discover what we've done.
