Chapter 4: The Sister Who Knew Too Much
"Brianna, what do you mean they know I called her?""
My sister glanced toward the hallway. Her face had lost every trace of the smug confidence she'd worn when she poured paint over my dress.
"Hang up, Mia.""
Margaret Collins was still speaking through my phone.
"Mia? Are you still there? I need you to listen carefully. Do not give anyone access to those documents until we have verified—"
Brianna lunged forward and pressed the red button.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
I stared at my phone.
Then I looked at her.
"Did you just hang up on my father's solicitor?""
Brianna swallowed.
"I had to.""
"No, you didn't. You had absolutely no right to touch my phone.""
"I was trying to protect you!""
I laughed bitterly.
"From what? The truth?""
Her eyes darted toward the hallway again.
"Keep your voice down.""
I stepped toward the door and shut it firmly.
"Start talking.""
Brianna rubbed her palms against her jeans. Blue paint still stained the edge of one fingernail from the dress, and seeing it made my stomach twist.
"How long have you known about the trust?"" I asked.
"I told you. I heard Mom and Richard talking about it last year.""
"What exactly did you hear?""
She looked down.
"They were arguing about a bank account. Richard said there wasn't enough time to fix everything before you turned eighteen.""
"Fix what?""
"I don't know.""
"Brianna.""
"I swear!""
Her voice cracked.
I had spent years wishing my sister would stop lying to protect herself. Now that she looked genuinely frightened, I couldn't decide whether to believe her or shake the truth out of her.
"You knew Dad left me money," I said.
"You knew there was something Mom didn't want me to find. And you still destroyed my dress tonight.""
Brianna's expression hardened.
"That has nothing to do with this.""
"Everything has something to do with this. You told me you were sick of Dad praising me. He's been dead for years, Brianna. What exactly are you competing with?""
She flinched.
For one second, I saw the little girl she'd been before everything between us became a contest.
Then she folded her arms.
"You wouldn't understand.""
"Try me.""
She sat on the edge of my bed, careful not to touch the blue-stained dress.
"Do you know what Mom says whenever we fight?""
I said nothing.
"She says you're the only thing Dad ever cared about.""
My breath caught.
Brianna stared at her hands.
"She says he made sure you would be fine, no matter what happened. He left you photographs, letters, money, all these memories. And what did I get? A stepfather who treats me like an inconvenience and a mother who's always trying to make everything look perfect.""
"That's not my fault.""
"I know!""
Her shout startled us both.
Brianna pressed her hands over her face.
"I know it's not your fault, Mia. That's what makes it worse.""
I stood motionless.
For the first time, my sister wasn't blaming me for being better at school or for getting more praise. She was admitting that she'd spent years resenting something she didn't understand.
But understanding her pain didn't erase what she'd done.
"You could have talked to me," I said.
She gave a small, broken laugh.
"When? When Mom told me to stop being jealous? When Richard said I should be grateful he paid for my dance lessons? Or when you were downstairs helping Grandma while everyone told me I needed to work harder?""
"I never told you that.""
"You didn't have to.""
She looked at the dress.
"I hated how everyone talked about you. Then I hated myself for hating you. And tonight, when I saw that dress hanging there, I just wanted you to feel something I felt every day.""
The confession hung between us.
"You wanted to hurt me.""
She nodded, tears spilling over her cheeks.
"Yes.""
It was the first honest answer she'd given me all night.
I wanted to forgive her. Some old, familiar part of me wanted to reach across the bed, hug her, and promise everything would be all right.
But my dress was still ruined.
My father was still dead.
And my family had apparently spent years hiding something that belonged to me.
"Why did you tell me to hang up?"" I asked.
Brianna wiped her face.
"Because I heard Richard talking to Mom earlier.""
"What did he say?""
"He said if you contacted Margaret Collins, they would have to explain the transfers.""
My heart began to race.
"What transfers?""
Brianna hesitated.
"Money was moved out of your account.""
"How do you know?""
"Because I saw the statements.""
I gripped the edge of my desk.
"When?""
"Last summer. I was looking for the receipt for my dance competition. Mom had put it in a folder in the study. I opened the wrong drawer, and there were bank statements.""
"What did they say?""
"I didn't understand all of it. There were numbers, account codes, and lots of pages. But I saw your name. I also saw Richard's company name.""
My mouth went dry.
"What company?""
"Richard owns a small property management business. You know that.""
I did.
He frequently complained about tenants, repairs, and the rising cost of insurance. He also liked to remind everyone that his business supported our household.
"What was his company doing on my statements?""
Brianna shook her head.
"I don't know. But Mom came in while I was looking at them. She grabbed the papers and told me never to mention what I'd seen.""
"And you listened?""
"She said Richard could lose everything if anyone found out.""
I stared at her.
"So you decided to destroy my dress instead?""
Her face crumpled.
"I didn't know what else to do!""
"You could have told me!""
"I was scared!""
"Of me?""
"Of them!""
Her voice rose so loudly that someone outside my door knocked.
"Mia?"" Mom called.
"Open this door.""
Brianna jumped to her feet.
"Don't tell her I told you.""
I looked at my sister in disbelief.
"You still want me to protect them?""
"No. I want you to understand that Richard isn't just angry. He's desperate.""
The doorknob turned.
"Mia, open the door right now.""
I crossed the room and unlocked it.
Mom stood in the hallway with Richard behind her.
Her expression was rigid.
"Give me your phone.""
"No.""
Richard stepped forward.
"We're not doing this again.""
"Then stop asking me to hand over things that belong to me.""
His jaw tightened.
"I want to speak with Margaret Collins.""
"Why?""
"Because she's interfering in a private family matter.""
"She was my father's solicitor.""
"And your father has been dead for ten years.""
The casual cruelty of the words made my chest tighten.
I looked at Mom.
"Did Dad leave me three hundred thousand dollars?""
She didn't answer.
"Did Richard transfer money out of my trust?""
"Mia," Mom whispered, "please.""
"That's not an answer.""
Richard reached for my phone.
I pulled it away.
"Don't touch me.""
He froze.
For a moment, I thought he might grab it anyway.
Instead, he stepped back and smiled without warmth.
"Fine. Keep your phone. But you're not leaving this house tomorrow until we resolve this.""
"My ceremony is tomorrow.""
"Then perhaps you should have thought about that before turning this into a legal investigation.""
I stared at him.
"You think I did this?""
"I think you've been manipulated by a woman who wants to stir up trouble.""
Brianna appeared behind me.
"Stop lying!""
Everyone turned.
Mom looked shocked.
"Brianna?""
My sister's hands trembled, but she stepped into the doorway.
"You know she deserves to know.""
Richard's face darkened.
"Go downstairs.""
"No.""
He pointed at her.
"Now.""
Brianna looked at me, then at him.
For once, she didn't retreat.
"I saw the statements. I saw Mia's name. I saw your company on the transfers.""
Mom covered her mouth.
Richard went completely still.
"You don't know what you saw," he said.
"I know enough.""
"No, Brianna. You know nothing.""
He moved toward her, but I stepped between them.
"Don't you dare threaten her.""
Richard stared at me for several seconds.
Then he looked at Mom.
"Get your daughters under control.""
He walked away, his footsteps heavy against the stairs.
Mom remained in the doorway.
She looked at Brianna with a mixture of fear and betrayal.
"You promised me you wouldn't talk about those papers.""
Brianna's eyes filled again.
"You promised me everything was legal.""
Mom looked as if she'd been slapped.
Then she turned toward me.
"Mia, there's something you need to understand about the money.""
I waited.
She glanced toward the hallway where Richard had disappeared.
"He didn't take it for himself," she whispered.
"Not at first.""
My heart pounded.
"What does that mean?""
Mom reached into the pocket of her robe and pulled out a folded sheet of paper.
It was a bank transfer confirmation.
The account holder's name was mine.
The recipient was Richard's company.
And the date was only six months ago.
I looked up.
"Why did you bring this upstairs?""
Mom's eyes filled with tears.
May you like
"Because I can't protect him anymore.""
Then she pushed the paper into my hand and whispered, "But if you show this to Margaret, you need to be prepared for what happens to your mother, too.""
