Chapter 12 - MY FATHER’S SECRET
I replayed the message twice.
My father did not move.
That frightened me more than the words themselves.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
“What happened to Mom?”
Arthur’s silence grew heavy.
My mother, Catherine Laurent, died when I was seventeen.
Car accident.
Rainy night.
A truck crossed the median.
That was the story I had known for sixteen years.
“Dad.”
His shoulders lowered.
“There are things I didn’t tell you.”
I felt something inside me crack.
“Not you too.”
His eyes filled with pain.
“Vivienne.”
“What did you hide?”
Arthur sat across from me.
“Your mother knew Eleanor.”
I stared.
“How?”
“They attended college together.”
I looked toward Dominic.
He seemed just as shocked.
Arthur continued.
“They were friends once.”
“What happened?”
“Money.”
Of course.
It was always money.
My mother came from the Laurent family.
Eleanor did not.
They started a small event company together after college.
Catherine provided capital.
Eleanor handled clients.
For two years, the company grew.
Then money vanished.
My mother discovered Eleanor had been moving funds.
“She stole from Mom?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“At the time, nearly eight hundred thousand dollars.”
My mouth opened.
“Was she charged?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Your mother refused.”
I almost laughed.
The pattern felt sickeningly familiar.
Silence to protect peace.
Forgiveness mistaken for weakness.
“Why would Mom do that?”
“Eleanor was pregnant with Dominic.”
I looked at him.
Dominic went completely still.
Arthur continued.
“Your mother did not want an unborn child to lose his mother to prison.”
Dominic whispered,
“My mother never told me.”
“She wouldn’t.”
Arthur looked at me.
“Catherine dissolved the partnership.”
“Then what?”
“Eleanor spent years blaming her.”
“For catching her stealing?”
“Yes.”
My father walked toward the window.
“Four months before your mother died, Eleanor contacted her.”
My heart pounded.
“Why?”
“She wanted money.”
“Did Mom give it to her?”
“No.”
“What happened?”
“They argued.”
“And?”
My father turned.
“Your mother believed Eleanor was blackmailing her.”
“With what?”
He hesitated.
“I never learned.”
I stared at him.
“You said Mom died in an accident.”
“She did.”
“But?”
“But the police received an anonymous report afterward claiming the crash may have been intentional.”
My hands went cold.
“Did they investigate?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“No proof.”
I looked at Dominic.
His face was ashen.
“You knew nothing about this?”
“Nothing.”
My father opened an old wooden cabinet.
From inside, he removed a small box.
He placed it before me.
“I kept this because I couldn’t throw it away.”
Inside was my mother’s old phone.
The screen was cracked.
Arthur had preserved it for sixteen years.
“There was one voicemail detectives never identified.”
He connected the phone to a charger.
Then played it.
My mother’s voice appeared.
Breathless.
Angry.
“Eleanor, stop calling me.”
My entire body went numb hearing her voice.
“You had your chance.”
Then another sentence.
“If you ever come near my daughter, I will tell Arthur everything.”
The recording ended.
I stared at my father.
“What did she mean?”
“I don’t know.”
A notification suddenly appeared on Daniel’s laptop.
Recovered file.
The forensic team had decrypted another folder from Eleanor’s old phone.
Its title contained only one name.
CATHERINE.
Inside were scanned letters.
Photographs.
And an audio recording dated two days before my mother died.
My father pressed play.
Eleanor’s younger voice came through.
“You think Arthur knows everything about you?”
Then my mother answered.
“No.”
Eleanor laughed.
“Then maybe Vivienne deserves to know who her real father is.”
May you like
The room stopped breathing.
And my father’s face told me Eleanor had finally found the one secret capable of hurting us both.
