“Exactly.”
That was when I remembered what Mom had told me.
The inheritance.
Eighty thousand dollars.
Grandma’s house.
Valerie believing she deserved more.
I pulled out my phone.
“I know someone who might know about the will.”
“Who?”
“Mom’s old lawyer.”
His name was Daniel Brooks.
Mom had mentioned him once when I was younger.
He had helped Grandma prepare her will.
I searched his office online.
It was downtown, not far from Mom’s department store.
But I couldn’t simply walk into a lawyer’s office and ask questions.
So I called.
A receptionist answered.
“Brooks & Associates.”
“Hi,” I said nervously. “My name is Chloe Bennett. I’m Rachel Bennett’s daughter.”
There was a pause.
“Is your mother available?”
“No.”
“Is this regarding a legal matter?”
“Yes.”
Another pause.
“I’m sorry, Chloe, but I can’t discuss your mother’s legal affairs with you.”
“I understand.”
I was about to hang up when I remembered something.
“My grandmother was Eleanor Bennett.”
The receptionist went quiet.
Then another voice came onto the line.
“Chloe?”
I froze.
It was Daniel Brooks.
“Yes?”
“This is Daniel.”
My heart raced.
“How do you know me?”
“Your grandmother showed me photographs of you every time she came into my office.”
That made me smile for half a second.
Then he said something that erased it.
“Where is your mother?”
“At work.”
“Is she safe?”
I sat up straight.
“Why wouldn’t she be?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
“Chloe, listen carefully. Has anyone contacted your mother about the Bennett estate recently?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
“My aunt.”
Silence.
Then Daniel said:
“I was afraid of that.”
I gripped the phone.
“What does that mean?”
“I can’t discuss confidential information with you without your mother’s permission.”
“But someone tried to frame her today.”
Silence.
“What?”
I told him everything.
Not every detail.
But enough.
When I finished, he exhaled slowly.
“Chloe, I need you to do something.”
“What?”
“Don’t go home alone.”
I looked toward the window.
“Why?”
“Because if what you’re telling me is true, this may have nothing to do with the bracelet.”
My throat tightened.
“What do you mean?”
“The bracelet could be a distraction.”
I hung up and immediately called Mr. Henderson.
He was already coming across the hallway.
“Your face tells me something happened.”
I told him what Daniel said.
He frowned.
Then he asked:
“What exactly did your grandmother leave?”
“I don’t know.”
“Your mother knows?”
“I think so.”
“And Valerie knows?”
“Probably.”
Mr. Henderson walked to his desk and opened his laptop.
“Let’s find out.”
We searched public property records.
Grandma’s old house had been sold after her death.
But something strange appeared.
The property had been transferred twice before it was sold.
Once into an estate.
Then into a trust.
I stared at the screen.
“What is that?”
“A trust.”
“Who owns it?”
“That’s the interesting part.”
He clicked.
A name appeared.
Bennett Family Preservation Trust.
I looked at him.
“Who is the beneficiary?”
He scrolled.
Then stopped.
His face became serious.
“Your mother.”
My heart started pounding.
“How much?”
He continued reading.
“The trust holds property and investment accounts.”
“How much money?”
He stared at the screen.
“Chloe…”
“What?”
“This isn’t eighty thousand dollars.”
I leaned closer.
“How much?”
He didn’t answer.
“Mr. Henderson?”
He finally looked at me.
“Several hundred thousand.”
My mouth went dry.
“Then why did Aunt Valerie think she deserved eighty thousand?”
“Maybe she knew there was more.”
“Or maybe…”
I finished the sentence.
“She wanted all of it.”
That evening, Mom came home early.
I could tell immediately something was wrong.
She didn’t even take off her coat.
“Chloe, we need to talk.”
I looked at Mr. Henderson.
He stood up.
“I’ll give you two some privacy.”
Mom nodded.
When the door closed behind him, she sat at the kitchen table.
“Your aunt was released.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“The police questioned her, but they haven’t arrested her.”
“Why?”
“They said they need more evidence.”
I knew that was true.
But it still made me angry.
“She tried to send you to prison!”
Mom closed her eyes.
“I know.”
“She put that bracelet in your bag.”
“I know.”
“She lied.”
“I know.”
“Then why isn’t she arrested?”
“Because the police need to prove intent.”
I hated that answer.
Mom reached across the table.
“Chloe.”
“What?”
“You’ve been hiding something from me.”
My heart stopped.
“What?”
She stared at me.
“I found the note.”
I froze.
“You left it on the counter.”
I looked down.
I had forgotten the second copy.
Mom reached into her coat and placed it on the table.
YOU SHOULD HAVE STAYED HOME.
Her hands were shaking.
“Who gave you this?”
“I don’t know.”
“When?”
“This morning.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
I couldn’t answer.
She stood.
“Chloe.”
“I’m sorry.”
She hugged me.
Hard.
“You never hide something like this from me again.”
“I was scared.”
“I know.”
She pulled back.
Then I saw something in her eyes.
Something I’d never seen before.
Fear.
Not fear for herself.
Fear for me.
She whispered:
“Valerie isn’t the only person I need to worry about.”
I stared at her.
“You know who it is?”
Mom looked toward the window.
“No.”
“Then how do you know?”
She sat down again.
“Because three months ago, I received a letter.”
“What letter?”
“Someone wanted me to sign away my rights to Grandma’s trust.”
“Who?”
“They didn’t sign their name.”
“What did they say?”
Mom swallowed.
“They said if I refused, someone I loved would pay for it.”
My blood went cold.
“Who did they mean?”
Mom looked directly at me.
“You.”
The next morning, detectives returned.
This time, they brought a warrant.
Not for our apartment.
For Valerie’s house.
They had found something during the jewelry investigation.
The bracelet’s original packaging contained a partial fingerprint.
And that fingerprint didn’t belong to my mother.
It belonged to Valerie.
But the police still needed to understand who had helped her.
Before they left, Detective Harris pulled me aside.
“Chloe.”
“Yes?”
“We found something you should know.”
“What?”
“Your aunt made several calls yesterday.”
“To who?”
“We’re still tracing them.”
“Was one of them before she came into our apartment?”
“Yes.”
“Who was it?”
He hesitated.
“We don’t know yet.”
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
I watched his expression change.
“What?”
A pause.
“Are you certain?”
Another pause.
“Send it to me.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” I asked.
Detective Harris looked at my mother.
Then at me.
“We found the phone number Valerie called.”
“Who does it belong to?”
He stared at the screen.
“It belongs to someone you’ve known for years.”
Mom’s face went pale.
“Who?”
Detective Harris turned the phone around.
I saw the name.
And for several seconds, I couldn’t breathe.
It wasn’t a stranger.
It wasn’t one of Valerie’s friends.
It wasn’t some criminal hiding in the shadows.
It was someone who had been sitting at our Thanksgiving table.
Someone who had hugged me on Christmas.
Someone my mother trusted completely.
Uncle Marcus.
My mother’s older brother.
I looked at Mom.
She whispered one word.
“No.”
But Detective Harris wasn’t finished.
“There is more.”
He handed Mom another photograph.
It showed Valerie entering a café two weeks earlier.
She wasn’t alone.
She was sitting across from Marcus.
And on the table between them was a folder.
The same kind of folder Mom had once shown me from Grandma’s estate papers.
Mom’s hand flew to her mouth.
“Marcus…”
Then her phone rang.
She looked at the screen.
Her expression changed.
Unknown number.
She answered.
“Hello?”
Nobody spoke.
Then a distorted voice whispered:
“You should have taken the deal, Rachel.”
The call ended.
Mom slowly lowered the phone.
Detective Harris looked at me.
And I knew from his expression that the nightmare wasn’t over.
It had only become much bigger.
PART 5
The call ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
My mother stood frozen beside the kitchen table, still holding the phone against her ear.
Detective Harris looked at his partner.
His partner was already reaching for his notebook.
“Did you recognize the voice?” Detective Harris asked.
Mom shook her head slowly.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve never heard that voice before.”
I knew that wasn’t completely true.
My mother had heard that voice.
Maybe not recently.
Maybe not clearly.
But somewhere deep inside her memory, something about it had frightened her.
I could see it in her eyes.
Detective Harris asked, “What exactly did the caller say?”
Mom repeated the words.
“You should have taken the deal, Rachel.”
“What deal?”
Mom looked down.
“The deal they offered me three months ago.”
“What was the deal?”
She hesitated.
“They wanted me to sign away my rights to my mother’s trust.”
“Who?”
“I didn’t know.”
“What would you have received?”
“Twenty thousand dollars.”
Detective Harris raised an eyebrow.
“And what would you have given up?”
“Everything.”
The room became silent.
He slowly sat down.
“Your entire inheritance?”
Mom nodded.
“The house. The investment accounts. Everything Grandma left in the trust.”
“And you refused.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mom’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because my mother didn’t create that trust for me to sell it.”
She looked at me.
“She created it so I could give my daughter a better life.”
My throat tightened.
Detective Harris leaned forward.
“Mrs. Bennett, I need you to tell me everything you remember about that offer.”
Mom closed her eyes.
Then she began.
Three months earlier, she had received an envelope at work.
Inside was a copy of Grandma’s trust documents.
There was also a handwritten note.
Sign the transfer papers. Take the money. Walk away.
At first, Mom thought it was a scam.
Then another envelope arrived.
This one contained photographs of me leaving school.
Another showed me walking into our apartment building.
A third showed Mom and me at a grocery store.
Whoever had sent them had been watching us.
Mom never told me because she was terrified I’d panic.
Instead, she went to Valerie.
She asked whether Valerie knew anything about the letters.
Valerie denied it.
Then she became angry.
She told Mom that Grandma had promised her a larger share of the estate.
Mom refused to discuss it.
A week later, another envelope arrived.
This time, there was only one sentence.
If you won’t give us the trust, we’ll make sure the law takes it from you.
That was when Mom contacted Daniel Brooks.
And Daniel told her something she hadn’t known.
Grandma’s trust contained a special provision.
If Mom were convicted of a serious financial crime involving dishonesty, control of the trust could temporarily pass to an alternate trustee.
And that alternate trustee was…
Marcus.
I stared at Detective Harris.
“So they weren’t just trying to get Mom arrested.”
He looked at me.
“No.”
“They wanted Marcus to control the money.”