Chapter 5 - Six Years of Silence
I sat behind Thomas’s desk and read the letter twice.
Dad had written that he loved me.
He had written that he disagreed with some of Ryan’s business decisions but would never force me to choose between my marriage and my family.
He had asked me to meet him.
He had included his private number.
At the bottom were five words.
I will always answer you.
I stared at the date.
I had never seen the letter.
I looked at Ryan.
“You took this.”
He shook his head.
“I didn’t.”
“It was locked in your father’s office.”
“I don’t know how it got there.”
Lily whispered, “Dad.”
He looked at her.
“I saw you put it there.”
Ryan’s face collapsed.
It was such a small sentence.
No shouting.
No dramatic accusation.
Just the truth from a child he had assumed nobody would believe.
I turned away because I suddenly couldn’t stand looking at him.
For six years, I had missed birthdays.
Christmases.
Dad’s heart surgery.
The fifth anniversary of my mother’s death.
I had sat alone in our bedroom on each of those nights while Ryan reminded me that family loyalty had consequences.
He had comforted me for pain he created.
Naomi crouched beside my chair.
“There are more letters.”
Thomas opened another cabinet.
He found eleven.
Eleven letters from my father.
Birthday cards.
Photographs.
A newspaper clipping about a scholarship Dad had established in my mother’s name.
Every envelope was unopened.
Diane’s face went white.
Thomas looked at her.
“You knew about these?”
She said nothing.
“Diane.”
Her chin lifted.
“We were protecting Ryan.”
“From what?”
“Charles.”
My father finally spoke.
“From me finding out what your son was doing with Emily’s trust.”
Diane looked at the phone.
“You always thought you were better than us.”
“No.”
Dad’s voice remained level.
“I thought my daughter deserved financial protections.”
Ryan laughed bitterly.
“There it is.”
He pointed toward the phone.
“This was always about control.”
I stood.
“No.”
Ryan looked at me.
“This is about you lying to me every day for six years.”
He stepped forward.
“I did it because your father was trying to destroy our marriage.”
“You forged an email.”
“I was desperate.”
“You stole my letters.”
“I was protecting us.”
“You forged my signature.”
His face tightened.
I held up my phone.
“And you threw a plate at me because I told your father you stole forty thousand dollars.”
That silenced him.
Naomi looked down at the bank statements.
Then she froze.
“Emily.”
“What?”
“The forty thousand dollars wasn’t the first withdrawal.”
May you like
She turned the page toward me.
Over three years, someone had moved more than nine hundred thousand dollars from accounts connected to my inheritance.
