Chapter 1: The Daughter He Threw Away
For one terrible second, I remembered every time Vanessa had whispered that my father would never choose me over her.
And now, standing in the living room with my father's suspicious eyes fixed on me, I wondered if she had finally been right.
"Emily," Dad said quietly.
"Is there something I need to know?""
I stared at him.
"You're asking me if I've been stealing from you?""
Vanessa immediately stepped forward, clutching her leather bag against her chest.
"Michael, don't let her manipulate you. She's been acting strangely for months. I tried to handle this privately because I didn't want to hurt you.""
Dad turned toward her.
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
"I was waiting for proof!""
"What proof?""
Vanessa hesitated.
Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
"Look. I found this in her bedroom.""
She unfolded it dramatically.
It was a printed bank statement.
My name appeared at the top.
I stepped closer.
"That's not mine.""
Vanessa gave a humorless laugh.
"Of course you'll say that.""
"That's not my bank account!""
She held the paper toward Dad.
"Three withdrawals. Nearly twelve thousand dollars. All transferred from the household account to an account under Emily's name.""
Dad took the paper.
His expression darkened as he examined it.
"Emily, did you authorize these transfers?""
"No!""
Vanessa shook her head.
"Michael, please. I know she's your daughter, but you have to stop making excuses for her.""
I looked at the woman who had spent six months making my life miserable.
"You pushed me out of this house. You took my phone. You wouldn't even let me collect my clothes. And now you're inventing a theft?""
"Watch your tone!"" Vanessa snapped.
"Don't you dare talk to me about my tone!""
My voice cracked.
"Do you know how many nights I've slept on that couch because you told me I wasn't allowed to use the upstairs bedrooms? Do you know how many meals I skipped because you said I was eating too much of your food?""
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"Here we go. The victim routine.""
Dad raised his hand.
"Enough.""
The room went silent.
He looked at Vanessa.
"Put the bag down.""
She stiffened.
"Michael—"
"Put. It. Down.""
"I don't understand why you're treating me like a criminal.""
"Because there's money sticking out of your bag, and my safe is open.""
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
It was impressive how quickly she could manufacture them.
"I was protecting you," she whispered.
Dad didn't move.
"From what?""
"From her!""
She pointed at me again.
"She's been poisoning this family since the day she moved back in. You work all day, Michael. You don't see what happens here.
She insults me. She refuses to help. She deliberately makes me feel unwelcome.""
I almost laughed.
The woman who had thrown me out was accusing me of making her feel unwelcome.
Dad finally looked down at the bank statement again.
"These transactions are dated three weeks ago.""
Vanessa nodded quickly.
"Exactly.""
"Why didn't you tell me three weeks ago?""
"Because I wanted to give her a chance to confess.""
"How generous.""
His voice was cold.
Vanessa's expression faltered.
Dad turned toward the safe.
"Where's the cream envelope?""
I noticed his entire body tense.
Vanessa went still.
"What envelope?""
"The sealed one. It was in the upper compartment.""
"I don't know what you're talking about.""
Dad looked inside the safe again.
He moved several folders, checked the jewelry case, and searched the lower shelf.
Then he turned around.
"Vanessa, where is the envelope?""
She swallowed.
"I haven't seen any envelope.""
Dad took one step toward her.
"Don't lie to me.""
"I'm not!""
He looked at the black bag.
"Open it.""
Vanessa hugged it tighter.
"No.""
That single word changed everything.
Dad's face lost its color.
"Why not?""
"Because you're humiliating me!""
"Then stop giving me reasons to suspect you.""
She suddenly dropped the bag.
It hit the marble floor.
Bundles of cash spilled across the room.
A small jewelry box tumbled out, followed by several documents.
Dad stared at the money.
I stared at Vanessa.
She looked at me with pure hatred.
"You did this," she whispered.
I shook my head.
"You did this to yourself.""
Dad bent down and picked up the cream envelope.
Its dark blue wax seal was broken.
My name was written across the front in familiar handwriting.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
It belonged to my mother.
My knees nearly buckled.
"Mom?""
Dad turned the envelope over.
His fingers began trembling.
Under my name were the words:
PRIVATE INHERITANCE DOCUMENTS. TO BE DELIVERED TO EMILY CARTER UPON HER TWENTY-FIFTH BIRTHDAY.
I looked at Dad.
"What is that?""
He didn't answer.
Instead, he stared at Vanessa.
"How long have you known about this?""
Vanessa's lips parted.
For the first time since I'd known her, she had absolutely nothing to say.
Dad slowly opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph of my mother holding me as a baby, a legal document, and a handwritten letter.
He read the first few lines.
Then his face changed.
He looked at me as if he were seeing a ghost.
"Emily," he whispered.
"What?""
He looked back at the letter.
"Your mother knew.""
"Knew what?""
Dad's hand tightened around the paper.
Before he could answer, Vanessa lunged toward him.
"Michael, don't read that!""
He stepped backward.
"Don't you dare touch me.""
Her eyes widened.
May you like
And then she said something that made my blood run cold.
"If she reads that letter, she'll find out who her real father is.""
