Chapter 8: The Woman Who Called Herself Family
I stared at Patricia's name until the letters seemed to blur.
For years, my aunt had been one of the few people I believed I could trust without hesitation.
She had helped Marcus raise me. She had attended every birthday party, every graduation, every important family gathering. When I was a child, she used to tell me that my mother would have been proud of the woman I was becoming.
She had even helped me choose my wedding dress.
Now I was looking at a document suggesting she had received money connected to the night my biological father disappeared.
“Could the transfer have been legitimate?”” I asked.
Elaine didn't dismiss the possibility.
“It could have been a repayment, a gift, or a transaction unrelated to the attempted loan. We need the original bank records before drawing conclusions.””
“But Mom wrote that the money was never recovered.””
“Yes.””
“And she believed Patricia received it.””
“Yes.””
I looked at Marcus.
He had gone quiet.
“Did you ever give Patricia money on Mom's behalf?””
“No.””
“Did Mom?””
“I don't know.””
His voice sounded rough.
“I knew Rachel had financial concerns involving Darius. I knew she was worried about the inheritance. But she never told me Patricia was involved.””
I looked back at the document.
“What if Patricia stole it?””
“Then we need to establish what happened before accusing her,” Elaine said.
“I won't help you build a case based on assumptions, even if those assumptions feel convincing.””
I understood what she meant.
But understanding didn't make it easier to sit still.
For twenty-six years, Patricia had been close enough to hold my hand while knowing something about the circumstances of my father's disappearance.
If she had taken the money, she had watched me grow up without telling me.
If she had helped Darius access my trust, she had been preparing to repeat the same betrayal.
And if she had done neither, I needed to know why her name appeared in the records.
“I want to speak to her,” I said.
Marcus shook his head.
“Not alone.””
“I'm not a child.””
“I know.””
“Then stop treating me like one.””
He looked at me for a long moment.
“You're right. You're not a child. But you're hurt, and Patricia may know how to use that.””
I looked away.
He was right, and I hated that he was right.
Elaine closed the folder.
“Before either of you contacts her, I want to preserve these documents and make sure the electronic records are secure. I also recommend that you speak with an attorney who represents you personally, not one connected to the trust.””
I nodded.
“Can you help me find one?””
“Of course.””
She made two calls while Marcus and I waited in her office.
By the time we left, I had an appointment with an independent attorney for the following afternoon, instructions for preserving the emails Jordan had sent, and copies of the documents that had been released to me.
I also had a photograph of my mother holding me as a baby.
I carried it inside my handbag as though it were the only thing in the world that couldn't betray me.
Outside, Marcus stopped beside the car.
“Do you want me to drive you home?””
“No.””
He studied my face.
“I want to go somewhere.””
“Where?””
“Patricia's house.””
His expression tightened.
“Nia—”
“I know what Elaine said. I won't accuse her without evidence. I just want to see how she reacts when I ask about the transfer.””
Marcus considered it.
Then he nodded.
“All right. But we go together.””
Patricia lived in a two-story house on a quiet street lined with maple trees. I had spent countless weekends there as a child, eating pancakes at the kitchen island and watching old movies with her on the living-room sofa.
When we arrived, her car was parked in the driveway.
A pot of flowers sat beside the front steps.
Everything looked painfully familiar.
I knocked.
The door opened almost immediately.
Patricia wore a blue cardigan and pearl earrings. Her expression brightened when she saw us.
“Nia! Marcus! I was just about to call you.””
She reached for me.
I stepped forward and let her hug me, though my body had gone rigid.
“Oh, sweetheart,” she said.
“I've been so worried. How are you holding up?””
“I'm okay.””
It was a lie.
She pulled back and examined my face.
“You look exhausted. Come inside. I'll make tea.””
I followed her into the house.
Marcus remained beside me, silent.
Patricia led us into the kitchen and began filling the kettle.
“I still can't believe what happened yesterday,” she said.
“A wedding canceled at the last minute. People are talking, of course, but they don't understand what you've been through.””
She placed three cups on the counter.
“Ethan called me last night. He says you're refusing to speak to him.””
I stared at her.
“He called you?””
“Yes. He was very upset.””
“What did he tell you?””
“That there was a misunderstanding about money.””
She glanced at Marcus.
“Honestly, I think all of this has been made worse by family tensions.””
Marcus didn't respond.
Patricia continued.
“Darius has been trying so hard to reconnect with you. Marcus has always been protective, and now Ethan is caught in the middle.””
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
She had managed to describe the entire situation without mentioning the forged signature, the unauthorized loan, or the attempted transfer from my trust.
“Patricia,” I said, “I need to ask you something.””
She smiled.
“Anything.””
“Did you contact Elaine Porter about my trust last year?””
The kettle clicked off.
Patricia's smile disappeared for half a second.
Then she turned toward the cups.
“Why would I do that?””
“Elaine has a copy of an inquiry submitted under your name.””
She placed a tea bag in one cup.
“I was trying to help you understand your finances.””
“Why didn't you ask me?””
“Because you were busy. You were planning your wedding. I didn't want to burden you.””
I watched her pour the hot water.
“Did you contact Darius about the trust?””
She set down the kettle.
“Of course not.””
“Then why did he email you about it?””
Her hand froze.
Marcus stepped forward.
“Patricia, we need you to answer honestly.””
She turned toward him.
“Don't you dare come into my house and interrogate me.””
“We're asking questions about documents connected to Nia's inheritance.””
“Your inheritance,” she snapped at me, “has become the center of everyone's life. Do you have any idea how much trouble that money has caused?””
I stared at her.
“My mother left it for me.””
“Yes, and your mother made a great many decisions without considering the consequences for anyone else.””
Marcus went very still.
“What does that mean?””
Patricia looked away.
For the first time, I saw anger beneath her polished expression.
“Rachel always thought she knew best. She had money, education, and a man who would do anything for her. The rest of us were expected to stand aside and admire her.””
“You were her sister,” I whispered.
“And I was always the one cleaning up after her!””
Her voice rose.
“You don't know what it was like. She could walk into a room and make everyone believe she was the most important person there. Even Darius loved her more than anyone.””
I stared at her.
“Is that why you helped him?””
Patricia recoiled.
“I did not help Darius.””
“Then explain the bank transfer.””
The room went silent.
Her face drained of color.
I opened my handbag and removed the copy Elaine had given me.
I placed it on the counter.
Patricia stared at the document.
For a moment, I thought she might deny everything.
Instead, she sat down.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
Marcus pulled out a chair.
“What happened, Patricia?””
She pressed her hands against her forehead.
“I didn't steal from Rachel.””
I felt my heart pound.
“Then why was money transferred into your account?””
She looked at me.
“Because Darius said he was going to lose everything.””
The answer landed like a slap.
I gripped the edge of the counter.
“You took Mom's money to help him?””
“It wasn't like that.””
“Then what was it like?””
Patricia's eyes filled with tears.
“He came to me the night he left. He said Rachel was threatening to report him for financial misconduct. He was frightened. He said he had made a mistake and needed money to settle a debt before things became worse.””
“So you gave him money?””
“He asked me to move funds temporarily. He said he would replace them within weeks.””
“Whose funds?””
She looked down.
“Rachel's.””
My throat tightened.
“Did Mom know?””
“No.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
Patricia began crying.
“I thought he would repay it. I thought I was preventing a disaster.””
“You took money from my mother without her permission.””
“I was going to return it!””
“Did you?””
She shook her head.
“No.””
The word was barely audible.
I stepped away from the counter.
“How much?””
“Forty-two thousand dollars.””
The same amount as the transfer request Elaine had shown me.
I stared at my aunt.
“You took forty-two thousand dollars from my mother's inheritance, and then you helped Darius find a way into my trust?””
“No! I didn't take anything from your trust.””
“You contacted Elaine.””
“I wanted to know whether there was a way to return the money without exposing what happened all those years ago.””
Marcus looked at her in disbelief.
“You had twenty-six years to tell us.””
“I was afraid!””
“Of what?””
“Of losing this family!””
Her voice cracked.
“Rachel was dead. Darius had disappeared. You were raising Nia. I thought if I told the truth, everything would fall apart.””
I looked at her.
“So you kept the secret.””
“I thought I was protecting everyone.””
“You were protecting yourself.””
She covered her face.
I wanted to feel sorry for her.
Part of me did.
She had made a terrible decision decades earlier and spent years living with the consequences. Fear had apparently turned one lie into a lifetime of lies.
But sympathy could not erase what she had done.
“Why did you contact Darius again?”” I asked.
Patricia lowered her hands.
“He contacted me first.””
“When?””
“Last year.””
“Before he contacted me?””
She nodded.
“He said he wanted to reconnect with you. He told me he regretted everything that had happened.””
“And you believed him?””
“I wanted to.””
“So did I.””
She looked at me through her tears.
“He said that if he could help you access the trust, he would make sure you were taken care of. He said he could repay what he owed Rachel.””
“By taking money from me?””
“He said it would be a loan.””
I laughed bitterly.
“A loan I never agreed to?””
Patricia didn't answer.
Marcus leaned forward.
“Did you give Darius copies of the guardianship documents?””
She looked at him.
“Yes.””
My stomach dropped.
“Why?””
“He said he needed them to establish his relationship to you and understand the trust arrangements.””
“Did you know he planned to use my information for a loan?””
“No.””
“Did you know Ethan was involved?””
She hesitated.
Then she nodded.
I closed my eyes.
“How long?””
“Several months.””
I felt as though someone had reached inside my chest and squeezed.
“You introduced Ethan to Darius.””
“I thought they could help each other. Ethan was struggling financially, and Darius said he wanted to provide for you.””
I stared at her.
“You helped connect the two men who were trying to use my inheritance.””
“I didn't know they would go this far.””
“But you knew enough to keep it secret.””
She began sobbing.
I turned toward Marcus.
He was looking at Patricia with an expression I had never seen before.
Not hatred.
Not even anger.
Just grief.
“You could have told us,” he said.
Patricia shook her head.
“I was going to.””
“When?””
She had no answer.
I gathered the papers from the counter.
“I'm going to report the unauthorized transactions and the attempted use of my identity. Elaine and my attorney can determine what happens next.””
Patricia reached for my hand.
“Please, Nia. Don't destroy this family.””
I pulled away.
“You helped destroy it when you decided my future was something you could arrange without asking me.””
Her face crumpled.
I walked toward the door.
Marcus followed.
Behind us, Patricia called my name.
“Nia, wait!””
I stopped but didn't turn around.
“There is something else you need to know.””
Her voice trembled.
“Darius didn't come back only because of the money.””
I turned slowly.
Patricia wiped her cheeks.
“He told me that Rachel had left something else in the trust. Something she never wanted you to see.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“What?””
Patricia looked at Marcus.
He stared back at her, visibly shaken.
Then she whispered, “A letter proving that Darius was never supposed to be your father in the first place.””
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
The sentence made no sense.
Darius was my biological father. I had seen the photographs, the family resemblance, the old records.
“What are you talking about?””
Patricia shook her head.
“I don't know the details. Darius said Rachel had hidden the truth, and that Marcus knew.””
I turned toward Marcus.
His face had gone pale.
“Is that true?””
He looked at me.
Then he said the one thing I had never expected to hear from him.
“I know what your mother wrote in that letter.””
My chest tightened.
“Then tell me.””
He lowered his eyes.
“I can't. Not until we establish whether the letter is authentic.””
“Why?””
“Because I don't know if Darius has seen the original, and I don't know what he has done to the copy.””
I stared at him.
Another secret.
Another document.
Another reason to question everything I thought I knew.
I stepped out of Patricia's house without saying goodbye.
Marcus followed me to the car.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I turned toward him.
“Did you know Darius might not be my biological father?””
He gripped the steering wheel.
“No.””
“But you know what the letter says.””
“Yes.””
“What did Mom write?””
He looked at me, his eyes full of pain.
“She wrote that if Darius ever returned and tried to claim your inheritance, I should show you the truth about the night you were conceived.””
I stopped breathing.
The night I was conceived.
My mother had left a letter about my biological father, and Marcus had apparently been protecting it for decades.
“Where is it?”” I whispered.
Marcus stared through the windshield.
“Elaine has the original.””
“Then we're going back.””
He nodded.
As he started the engine, my phone vibrated.
A message had arrived from an unknown number.
There was no greeting.
No explanation.
Only a photograph of a handwritten letter.
At the top, I recognized my mother's name.
At the bottom, I recognized Marcus's signature.
May you like
And in the middle was a sentence that made my hands go numb.
Darius is not the man who fathered Nia.
