Chapter 7: The Original
We left through the back door.
The night air hit my face.
Michael moved fast, cutting across the yard toward the alley.
I followed.
Laura followed me.
Evelyn stayed behind.
“Wait!”” I shouted.
Michael stopped.
“You can't leave her.””
“She knows where the evidence is.””
Evelyn stepped into the darkness.
“I'll be fine.””
I didn't believe her.
Neither did Michael.
But then we heard tires screeching at the front of the house.
Michael grabbed my shoulder.
“Go.””
We ran.
Two blocks away, we reached an old garage.
Michael unlocked the door.
Inside was a small car covered in dust.
I stared at it.
“This is your plan?””
“It's the car nobody knows I have.””
Laura looked behind us.
“Where are we going?””
“To the only place Jason can't search.””
The garage door opened.
We drove for almost forty minutes without speaking.
Eventually, the city disappeared.
We stopped at a small cabin surrounded by trees.
Michael unlocked the door.
I stepped inside.
Boxes lined every wall.
Documents filled the shelves.
Photographs covered the table.
It looked less like a home than a private archive.
Laura stood near the doorway.
“This is where you've been living?””
“Sometimes.””
“Why?””
“Because nobody looks for the truth in places nobody wants to visit.””
He turned on a lamp.
Then he pulled a metal box from beneath the table.
“This is what Jason has been looking for.””
I stared.
“What?””
Michael opened the box.
Inside was a single envelope.
The paper was old.
Yellowed at the edges.
My father's handwriting was across the front.
*For Mark. Only Mark.*
I couldn't move.
Michael handed it to me.
I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
I read the first line.
*My son,*
My vision blurred.
I forced myself to continue.
*If you are reading this, then I failed to tell you the truth while I was alive.*
I sat down.
Laura watched me.
I kept reading.
My father admitted everything.
Westridge had been built with money belonging to Evelyn's family.
He admitted Michael was his son.
He admitted he had hidden him.
But there was one part that made my hands shake.
He had not intended to keep everything.
He had created a private trust that would divide the assets equally between his two sons.
Then, years later, he changed his mind.
Not because he hated Michael.
Because he had become afraid.
A business partner had threatened him.
A man named Richard Cole.
Jason's father.
I looked up.
“Jason's father?””
Michael nodded.
“Richard ran the financial side of Westridge.””
I read the letter again.
My father wrote that Richard had been moving money out of the company.
When my father discovered it, Richard threatened to expose Michael's identity and destroy the family.
So my father buried the trust.
He hid the second company.
He told my mother nothing.
And then he died.
I lowered the letter.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?””
Michael answered quietly.
“Because your mother found out after the funeral.””
I looked at Laura.
She shook her head.
“I didn't know any of this.””
“Not even about Michael?””
“No.””
“Then what were you doing with Jason?””
Her voice broke.
“I thought he loved me.””
I looked away.
Michael opened another file.
“He did.””
Laura looked surprised.
“For about five minutes.””
“What does that mean?””
“It means Jason wasn't pretending to care about you.””
Michael placed a recording on the table.
He pressed play.
Jason's voice filled the room.
“Laura, once Mark signs, we're done.””
Her voice followed.
“You said we'd stay together.””
There was a pause.
Then Jason laughed.
“You really think this was about you?””
Laura covered her mouth.
The recording continued.
“You were just the key.””
Her voice cracked.
“You used me.””
“Of course I used you.””
I looked at Laura.
She looked destroyed.
But I couldn't comfort her.
Not anymore.
The recording ended.
I stared at Michael.
“Why show me this?””
“Because tomorrow, Laura will be asked to swear under oath that she approved the transfer freely.””
I looked at the paperwork.
“And if she says she did?””
“She becomes the easiest person to blame.””
“Meaning?””
“Jason walks away.””
I stood.
“Then we stop it.””
Michael nodded.
“We do.””
“How?””
He looked at the letter.
“There is one person who can cancel everything.””
“Who?””
Michael said the name slowly.
“Your mother.””
I frowned.
“She doesn't have the authority.””
“She has something better.””
“What?””
“The original trust.””
I stared at him.
“You said she had the second copy.””
“She does.””
“Where?””
Michael smiled grimly.
“At the place your father thought nobody would ever search.””
My phone rang.
My mother's name appeared.
I answered.
“Mom?””
Her voice was shaking.
“Mark, listen carefully.””
“What happened?””
“They found me.””
My chest tightened.
“Who?””
“I don't have much time.””
“Mom!””
She whispered,
“The trust is in your father's old church.””
I frowned.
“The church in town?””
“No.””
Her breathing quickened.
“The church where he married the woman in the photograph.””
I looked at Evelyn.
Then at Michael.
“Who's the woman?””
My mother went silent.
Then said,
May you like
“Not Evelyn.””
The call ended.
