Chapter 4: The Price of My Father's Silence
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
My father's name sat at the bottom of the licensing agreement.
Daniel Carter.
Beneficiary.
I read the word three times, hoping it would somehow change.
It didn't.
“There's been a mistake,” I whispered.
Margaret Ellis sat across from me.
“I wish there were.””
I looked at Daniel Foster, the competition's compliance director.
“How much money?””
He glanced at the document.
“The agreement doesn't disclose every payment. But there are references to annual licensing distributions.””
“How many years?””
“According to the records we've obtained, at least fourteen.””
Fourteen years.
I was twenty-three.
My father had apparently been receiving money from my mother's designs for more than half my life.
I pushed the document away.
“Why?””
Nobody answered.
I stood so quickly that my chair scraped against the floor.
“I need to speak to him.””
Margaret rose.
“Miss Carter, I recommend that you wait until—”
“No.””
My voice cracked.
“I've spent my entire life waiting.””
I gathered my belongings.
Mrs. Bennett followed me into the hallway.
She gently touched my shoulder.
“Aaliyah, breathe.””
I looked at her.
“He told me we couldn't afford my design supplies. He told me to be patient. He watched Vivienne give Celeste everything while I worked weekends to buy fabric.””
My eyes burned.
“And all this time, he was receiving money from my mother's work?””
Mrs. Bennett didn't try to defend him.
That was why I loved her.
She simply said, “Let's find out the truth.””
I arrived home shortly after five.
My father was in the kitchen, standing beside the counter with his phone pressed to his ear.
He looked up when I entered.
“Let me call you back,” he said.
He ended the call.
“Aaliyah. How did the meeting go?””
I placed the licensing agreement on the counter.
“Explain this.””
His face changed.
He looked at the document.
Then at me.
“Where did you get that?””
“That's your first question?””
He slowly pulled out a chair.
“Sit down.””
“No.””
“Aaliyah, please.””
I pointed to his name.
“Why are you listed as a beneficiary of Mom's designs?””
He rubbed his forehead.
“It's complicated.””
“Everyone in this house keeps saying that.””
“Because you don't understand the circumstances.””
“Then explain them.””
He looked toward the staircase.
I followed his gaze.
Vivienne was standing at the top.
She had heard everything.
“Daniel,” she called softly.
“We should discuss this privately.””
I laughed.
“Of course. Everything is private when it involves money.””
She descended the stairs.
Her expression was composed, but her fingers were twisting the ring on her right hand.
“Your father made an arrangement years ago.””
“What arrangement?””
Vivienne looked at Daniel.
He remained silent.
Finally, she spoke.
“Your mother had business debts.””
I frowned.
“What?””
“Her fashion studio was struggling. She borrowed money to keep it running. Richard helped her.””
“Richard Vaughn?””
“Yes.””
“And what does that have to do with Dad?””
Vivienne folded her arms.
“Your father agreed to manage the licensing arrangement after your mother passed away.””
I turned toward him.
“Manage it?””
He nodded reluctantly.
“Richard said the collection needed to be protected.””
“Protected from whom?””
My father looked down.
“From creditors.””
I stared at him.
“Did Mom owe money?””
He swallowed.
“Yes.””
“How much?””
“I don't remember the exact amount.””
“Did you sell her designs?””
“No.””
Vivienne interrupted.
“Your father didn't sell anything. He simply received administrative compensation.””
I turned toward her.
“How much?””
She looked irritated.
“That isn't relevant.””
“It's my mother's work. It is absolutely relevant.””
My father finally raised his voice.
“Aaliyah, I was trying to keep something for you.””
I froze.
“What?””
He opened a drawer and removed an old envelope.
Inside was a bank statement.
He placed it on the counter.
“Your mother left a trust.””
I stared at the page.
The account had been opened shortly before her death.
It contained a substantial sum.
But the balance had been reduced almost entirely to zero.
“What happened to it?””
My father looked devastated.
“Richard managed the account.””
“Where did the money go?””
He didn't answer.
Vivienne stepped forward.
“Daniel, this is getting out of hand.””
I turned toward her.
“Did you take my mother's money?””
Her cheeks flushed.
“Watch yourself.””
“Did you?””
She pointed toward the staircase.
“Go upstairs.””
I didn't move.
My father finally spoke.
“Some of the money was used for household expenses.””
I stared at him.
“Household expenses?””
He nodded.
“Mortgage payments. Medical bills. The wedding.””
I looked at Vivienne.
“The wedding?””
She lifted her chin.
“We had a family to support.””
I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing.
My mother's money had paid for Vivienne's wedding?
The woman who had spent years treating me like an unwanted guest had celebrated her marriage using money that belonged to my mother.
I picked up the bank statement.
“How much did you spend?””
My father closed his eyes.
“I'm sorry.””
I shook my head.
“No. Don't apologize yet. I haven't finished asking questions.””
I turned toward Vivienne.
“Did you know?””
She remained silent.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Your mother wasn't the saint you think she was.””
I stared at her.
“What?””
Vivienne smiled bitterly.
“She made promises she couldn't keep. She left debts. She left unfinished business. Someone had to clean up the mess.””
I stepped closer.
“You're talking about a woman who died when I was nine.””
“And your father had to raise you.””
My father stood.
“Vivienne, stop.””
But she continued.
“You have no idea what Daniel sacrificed.””
I looked at him.
“Did you receive money from the licensing agreement?””
He nodded.
“How much?””
“I can't tell you.””
“Why?””
He hesitated.
Then his phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen.
A message appeared.
I caught the sender's name.
Richard Vaughn.
My father immediately turned the phone facedown.
“Who is he?”” I asked.
“It's nothing.””
“Show me.””
“Aaliyah.””
“Show me the message.””
He didn't move.
I reached for the phone.
He pulled it away.
And for the first time in my life, my father looked at me like he was afraid I might discover something.
That night, I couldn't sleep.
At 11:43 p.m., I heard footsteps outside my bedroom.
Then a soft knock.
“Aaliyah?””
My father's voice.
I opened the door.
He stood there holding a small wooden box.
“Can I come in?””
I stepped aside.
He placed the box on my desk.
“Your mother left this for you.””
I stared at it.
“Why didn't you give it to me before?””
His eyes filled.
“Because I wasn't ready.””
I opened the box.
Inside were several old photographs, a gold necklace, and a folded letter.
My mother's handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
My fingers trembled as I unfolded the paper.
My darling Aaliyah,
If you're reading this, I hope you've grown into the brave young woman I always knew you could become.
Never allow anyone to convince you that your dreams are too expensive, too foolish, or too big.
Some people will love your talent only when they can control it.
Remember that.
I stopped reading.
My throat tightened.
At the bottom of the letter was another sentence.
If anyone ever tries to claim my Garden Collection, find the blue ledger.
I looked up.
“Dad?””
He was staring at the letter.
“What is the blue ledger?””
His face drained of color.
“Where did you find that?””
“It's in Mom's letter.””
He sat down.
For a long moment, he didn't speak.
Then he whispered, “I thought Richard destroyed it.””
My heart began racing.
“What is it?””
“A record of every original design your mother created, every licensing agreement, and every payment she was supposed to receive.””
“Where is it?””
He shook his head.
“I don't know.””
I looked at the box again.
There was a small photograph beneath the necklace.
My mother stood in front of an old brick building.
On the back, written in blue ink, were four words.
*Where the first flowers grew.*
I turned it toward my father.
He stared at it.
Then he stood abruptly.
“Don't go looking for that ledger.””
“Why?””
He looked toward the door.
“Because Richard isn't the only person who wants it.””
Before I could ask another question, someone knocked loudly downstairs.
Three times.
My father went pale.
May you like
Then I heard Vivienne's voice.
“Daniel! Richard is here!””
