Chapter 8 - Her Mother’s Death
Emily showed Raymond the message.
He did not deny understanding it.
That frightened her.
“What happened to Mom?”
Raymond closed the door.
“Your mother died from cancer.”
“That’s what I know.”
“It’s true.”
“Then why would someone send this?”
Raymond sat across from her.
“Because your mother discovered Charles Whitmore’s financial scheme years before you met Preston.”
Emily felt the room tilt.
“What?”
“Claire Saint Claire served on the holding-company audit committee.”
Emily remembered her mother bringing folders home.
Long phone calls behind closed doors.
Arguments Emily had assumed were about hospital budgets.
“She found irregular loans?”
“Yes.”
“How long ago?”
“Eight years.”
Emily’s mother had died seven years earlier.
Raymond continued.
“She discovered Charles was using charitable foundations to move hospital funds into private development projects.”
“Did she report him?”
“She intended to.”
“What stopped her?”
“She became ill.”
Emily studied him.
“And?”
“Someone leaked confidential information suggesting your mother had approved some of the transactions.”
Emily’s chest tightened.
“They framed her.”
“We believed so.”
“Did you prove it?”
“No.”
Emily stood.
“You never told me.”
“You were twenty-three and burying your mother.”
“I deserved to know.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me later?”
Raymond looked ashamed.
“Because I promised her.”
Emily laughed bitterly.
“Everyone keeps promising dead people things that hurt living people.”
Raymond accepted that without defense.
“She wanted you away from the company.”
“Why?”
“She believed Charles would come after anyone controlling her shares.”
Emily stopped.
“Me.”
“Yes.”
That explained everything.
The anonymous teaching job applications Raymond encouraged.
His advice that she keep her inheritance private.
His refusal to discuss company details.
He had not been hiding wealth.
He had been hiding a target.
“Did Preston know this?”
“We need to assume Charles told him enough.”
Emily’s phone vibrated again.
Another unknown message.
A scanned document appeared.
It was an old pathology report belonging to Claire Saint Claire.
Emily stared.
“What is this?”
Raymond took the phone.
His face drained.
“Where did they get that?”
“Tell me.”
He read silently.
Emily snatched it back.
One entry was highlighted.
MEDICATION INTERACTION WARNING.
Another document followed.
A pharmacy order from eight years earlier.
The prescribing physician’s signature belonged to Dr. Marcus Whitmore.
Preston’s uncle.
Emily looked at Raymond.
“Did my mother receive the wrong medication?”
“We investigated.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“The pharmacy called it an error.”
“Was it?”
“We could never prove otherwise.”
Emily stared at the message.
A third text appeared.
YOUR MOTHER FOUND THE MONEY.
THEY MADE SURE SHE COULDN’T TESTIFY.
Emily’s knees weakened.
Raymond caught her arm.
She pulled away.
“No.”
“Emily.”
“Did Charles kill my mother?”
“I don’t know.”
“You suspected it?”
Raymond was silent.
Emily’s eyes burned.
“You let me marry into that family.”
“I didn’t know Preston had targeted you.”
“You suspected Charles might have harmed Mom, and you stood at my wedding.”
Raymond’s face broke.
“I thought keeping the truth buried protected you.”
“It protected them.”
He flinched.
Emily looked away.
For years, she had remembered Raymond as the one stable person after her mother died.
Now even his silence felt like betrayal.
The door opened.
Monica entered carrying an old evidence box.
“We found something in the Saint Claire archive.”
Raymond looked confused.
“What?”
“Claire’s original audit notes.”
Emily froze.
Monica opened the box.
Inside were handwritten ledgers.
Bank transfers.
Names.
Dates.
And one sealed envelope.
TO EMILY.
Her mother’s handwriting.
Emily’s hands shook as she opened it.
Inside was a single page.
Sweetheart,
If you are reading this, then the Whitmores finally came for what I left you.
Emily stopped breathing.
The next line was underlined twice.
Do not trust the man who says he is trying to save the hospital.
She looked at Raymond.
Then at Monica.
Her mother had written one final name at the bottom.
Not Charles.
May you like
Not Preston.
RAYMOND.
