Chapter 9: My Mother's Last Secret
Grandmother read the message twice.
Then she closed her eyes.
I watched her carefully.
“Grandma?””
She didn't answer.
“Who was in the room?””
Her fingers tightened around her cane.
“Your father.””
My stomach turned.
“Dad?””
She nodded.
“He was there when Elizabeth died.””
I shook my head.
“But you said it was medical complications.””
“That was the official explanation.””
“What really happened?””
Grandmother looked toward the officers.
“I need to tell you everything.””
The older officer moved closer.
“Mrs. Hayes, if this concerns a possible homicide, we need to document your statement.””
“I understand.””
She placed both hands on the table.
“Elizabeth had discovered that Richard was stealing from her estate before June was born. She confronted him after finding several unauthorized transfers.””
Thomas nodded.
“I remember the investigation.””
Grandmother continued.
“She told me she wanted to remove him from all financial responsibilities. Richard was furious.””
I looked at the photograph of my biological mother.
“How did she die?””
“She was admitted to the hospital after developing complications. Richard visited her that evening. The next morning, she was dead.””
My throat tightened.
“Was he alone with her?””
Grandmother nodded.
“He claimed he had only been there for a few minutes.””
“What did the doctors say?””
“They recorded a sudden cardiac event.””
“Was there an investigation?””
“There was a review, but Richard was the person who supplied the medical history. He said Elizabeth had a history of heart problems.””
I looked at Thomas.
“Was that true?””
He shook his head.
“Not according to the medical records I saw.””
Grandmother leaned forward.
“Elizabeth had been afraid of him. She told me that if anything happened to her, I should make sure you were protected.””
I felt sick.
“Why didn't you tell the police?””
“I tried.””
“What happened?””
“Richard had already obtained control of the hospital paperwork through his attorney. Several records were missing, and the physician who signed the final report later moved overseas.””
The officer interrupted gently.
“Mrs. Hayes, do you have any documents supporting this?””
Grandmother nodded.
“I kept everything I could.””
She opened her handbag and removed a small leather notebook.
Inside were handwritten dates, names, and financial transactions.
She turned to a page marked with a red ribbon.
“This is the last entry Elizabeth made in her own handwriting.””
I leaned closer.
The date was two days before her death.
Richard knows about the trust. He came to see me tonight. He said June would be better off if I wasn't here to interfere.
My hands went cold.
There was another line.
If something happens to me, Margaret must protect June. Do not let Richard control her inheritance.
I looked at the officer.
“Can this be investigated?””
“Yes. We'll need to preserve the original notebook and review the relevant records.””
Grandmother nodded.
Then she looked at me.
“I have spent six years waiting for the chance to give you this.””
“Why did you fake your death?””
“Because Richard was watching me. He had access to my financial accounts, my medical information, and nearly everyone who worked for him.””
She explained that she had arranged for a private attorney to help her disappear after discovering that Dad had been trying to obtain control of her assets.
Her funeral had been staged using a sealed coffin.
Only a handful of people knew the truth.
Thomas.
Meredith.
And one attorney.
I looked at my aunt.
“You knew?””
Meredith nodded through tears.
“I wanted to tell you. But Margaret made me promise to wait until we had enough evidence to protect you.””
I felt betrayed all over again.
“Everyone knew something except me.””
Meredith took my hand.
“I know.””
I pulled away gently.
“I spent eight months thinking I was responsible for the worst night of my life.””
Grandmother's eyes filled.
“I know, darling.””
“No, you don't.””
My voice cracked.
“You weren't there when Dad told people I started the fire. You weren't there when Sloane showed my scars to people at school. You weren't there when Mom asked me to cover myself because my body ruined the photographs.””
Grandmother bowed her head.
“You're right.””
I looked at the photograph of Elizabeth.
“I don't even know what my mother sounded like.””
Grandmother reached for the picture.
“I have recordings.””
I looked up.
“What?””
“Voicemails. Family videos. Letters.””
She smiled sadly.
“She had a beautiful laugh. And she hated being photographed.””
A small laugh escaped me despite everything.
“She sounds like me.””
“She was very much like you.””
Then Grandmother's expression changed.
“There is something else you need to know about the fire.””
She took a document from the leather notebook.
It was a copy of an internal report from the fire department.
The report listed the estimated ignition time.
9:51 p.m.
The same time Caleb's first recording showed Sloane in the kitchen.
But there was an additional notation.
*Possible delayed ignition device recovered near rear utility entrance.*
Mark, who had been listening quietly, leaned closer.
“Where did you get this?””
“From the original investigation file. I obtained a copy through my attorney.””
He examined the page.
“This was never included in the public report.””
“Because Richard paid to have the supplemental findings removed,” Grandmother replied.
The officer immediately asked for the document.
He photographed it and placed it in an evidence folder.
I turned to Grandmother.
“Was Dad trying to kill us?””
She looked at me for a long moment.
“I don't know whether he intended for you to be inside. But I know he understood the danger.””
My chest tightened.
“And Sloane?””
Grandmother's expression softened.
“Your sister was manipulated. That doesn't excuse what she did, but it matters when we establish what happened.””
I thought about Sloane's face when she saw my scars.
I thought about her confession.
I thought about the gasoline container.
I didn't know whether I could ever forgive her.
But I knew she had been seventeen, living in a house where our father controlled every decision.
I also knew I had been seventeen.
And I had spent those same months fighting to use my own arm again.
The officer received a phone call.
He stepped away to answer it.
When he returned, his expression was serious.
“Mrs. Hayes, we have located Daniel Price.””
Grandmother looked up.
“Where?””
“He has been staying at a property registered to one of Mr. Hayes's companies. Officers are speaking with him now.””
Thomas frowned.
“Does he have the original work orders?””
“We don't know yet.””
The officer paused.
“However, he has agreed to cooperate.””
I felt a strange mixture of relief and dread.
“Did he say why he disconnected the alarms?””
The officer glanced at his notes.
“He claims he was instructed to do so by Richard Hayes.””
Grandmother closed her eyes.
“And the gasoline?””
“He hasn't answered that question yet.””
Then the officer looked at me.
“He did mention your name.””
I stiffened.
“What?””
“He says Mr. Hayes told him you would be blamed for the fire regardless of what happened.””
The garden seemed to go silent again.
I looked at the table.
At my birthday cake.
At the candles that had never been lit.
My father had apparently decided I was guilty before the fire even began.
The officer continued.
“There's also a matter involving your sister.””
I looked up.
“What about Sloane?””
“She has contacted our department through her attorney. She wants to provide a formal statement.””
I didn't know what to feel.
“Does she have evidence?””
The officer nodded.
“She says she has a recording of a conversation with your father from the morning after the fire.””
My heart began pounding.
“What conversation?””
He checked his notes.
“Apparently, Mr. Hayes told her exactly what she needed to say to the insurance company.””
Two hours later, Sloane arrived with her attorney.
She had changed out of her silver dress.
She wore a plain gray sweater and black trousers, and her hair hung loosely around her shoulders.
Without the makeup and the confident smile, she looked younger.
Almost like the girl I remembered.
She approached me carefully.
“June?””
I remained seated.
“What do you want?””
She glanced at the officers.
“I brought the recording.””
One of them took her phone and checked the file.
“Where did you obtain this?””
“I recorded it myself.””
“Why?””
Sloane looked at me.
“Because I was scared of Dad.””
The officer played the recording.
Dad's voice came through the speaker.
Clear.
Cold.
Unmistakable.
“Listen carefully, Sloane. June was the one who caused the fire.””
Sloane's recorded voice sounded frightened.
“But I saw you with the gasoline.””
A pause.
Then Dad replied.
“You saw nothing.””
“What about Caleb?””
“He'll remember what we tell him to remember.””
Sloane began crying in the recording.
“June almost died.””
Dad's answer made my blood run cold.
“Then perhaps she'll finally understand what happens when someone interferes with my business.””
The recording continued.
“Your job is simple. You tell the insurance company what you saw. You say June was carrying the container.
You sign the statement. And you never mention my name.””
The recording ended.
Nobody spoke.
Sloane looked at me.
“I kept it because I thought I might need it someday.””
I stared at her.
“You knew he was framing me.””
She nodded.
“And you still signed the statement.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
She looked down.
“Because he told me if I didn't, he'd send me away. He said he'd make sure I never saw Caleb again.””
I felt tears sting my eyes.
“You could have told me.””
“I know.””
“You could have told Meredith.””
“I know.””
“You could have told the police.””
She covered her face.
“I know!””
The officers took her formal statement.
Her attorney confirmed that she was cooperating voluntarily.
Then Sloane reached into her bag and removed a small envelope.
“I found this in Dad's desk.””
She handed it to me.
Inside was a photograph of Elizabeth holding a baby.
My baby picture.
On the back, someone had written:
*The original beneficiary. Keep her away from the records until she turns eighteen.*
I turned the photograph over.
There was another page beneath it.
A document bearing my father's signature.
It was dated two months before the fire.
At the top were the words:
*Emergency Transfer of Beneficial Ownership.*
I read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
My heart began racing.
Dad had attempted to transfer my entire inheritance into a private company.
But the transfer had been rejected.
The reason was written in red ink.
*BENEFICIARY SIGNATURE REQUIRED UPON REACHING AGE 18.*
I looked at the date.
The attempted transfer had been scheduled to become effective today.
My birthday.
My father hadn't simply wanted the cottage records destroyed.
He had planned to take everything the moment I became an adult.
But he had overlooked one detail.
I was no longer the frightened seventeen-year-old girl he could silence.
I looked at Sloane.
“Why did you bring this to me?””
She wiped her eyes.
“Because I finally realized something.””
“What?””
She looked at my scars.
“Dad didn't just want to destroy the evidence. He wanted us to destroy each other.””
I stared at her.
Then my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered.
A man's voice came through.
“June Hayes?””
“Yes.””
“My name is Daniel Price. I know you've been told I started the fire.””
I looked at the officers.
He continued.
“But there's something your father hasn't told you.””
“What?””
His voice dropped.
“Your grandmother wasn't the only person who survived that night.””
I felt my blood turn cold.
“Who else?””
A long pause.
May you like
Then he whispered:
“Your biological mother, Elizabeth.””
