Chapter 3: The Girl Who Had Everything
I couldn't speak.
Seventy-five thousand dollars.
That was more than I could imagine earning in my entire life.
And my stepsister had received it.
I remembered Brianna standing beside my ruined quinceañera dress, laughing while blue paint dripped from her hands.
I remembered her saying, "Then buy another one.""
At the time, I thought she was simply being cruel.
Now I wondered whether she knew exactly how much money was sitting behind my father's name.
"Did Brianna know?"" I asked.
Thomas looked uncomfortable.
"We don't have enough evidence to determine what she knew about the original trust.""
"She's sixteen.""
"That doesn't necessarily answer the question.""
Grandma leaned forward.
"Can Linda legally transfer money to her?""
"No. Not from Isabella's trust.""
"Then what happens now?""
Thomas closed the folder.
"First, we freeze any remaining transactions. Then we investigate the unauthorized transfers and preserve every document.""
I looked at him.
"Can we get the money back?""
"Some of it, potentially. But I won't make promises before we know where it went.""
I stared at the table.
All those weekends at the bakery.
All those early mornings.
All those times I had stood behind the counter watching customers buy expensive pastries while I counted my tips.
I had believed every dollar mattered because my family had so little.
Meanwhile, my mother had moved thousands of dollars from an account my father created for me.
"Mr. Whitaker?""
"Yes?""
"Did my father know this would happen?""
The attorney's expression softened.
"He was afraid it might.""
He reached into the folder and pulled out a smaller envelope.
"This was left with specific instructions to be delivered to you if questions ever arose about the trust.""
My heart skipped.
Another letter.
My father's handwriting was on the front.
For Bella. If the money is ever touched.
I carefully opened it.
Mi pequeña estrella,
If you are reading this, something happened that I hoped would never happen.
I need you to understand something.
I didn't leave you money because I wanted you to be rich. I left it because I wanted you to have choices.
I want you to be able to study without worrying about tuition. I want you to be able to leave a place where you are unhappy. I want you to have a home where you feel safe.
Never allow anyone to convince you that your dreams are too expensive.
And never let anyone make you feel guilty for protecting what is yours.
There is one more thing.
If someone tells you that I left debts, ask them to show you the original records.
If someone tells you that I wanted the money spent on the family, ask them to show you my signature.
I made my wishes clear.
I love you, Bella.
Always.
I couldn't continue.
My tears dropped onto the paper.
Grandma reached across the desk and held my hand.
Thomas waited patiently.
When I finally looked up, I asked the question that had been sitting inside me since the night before.
"Why did my father leave everything to me instead of my mother?""
Thomas exchanged a glance with Grandma.
Then he opened another folder.
"Your father had concerns about financial decisions being made in the household. But there's something else you should know.""
He placed a document on the table.
It was a copy of an insurance policy.
The beneficiary was listed as Isabella Reyes.
The amount was $250,000.
I looked at the date.
It had been issued four months before Dad died.
"Did Mom receive this money?""
Thomas shook his head.
"No. It was paid directly into the trust.""
"Then why did she tell me we couldn't afford anything?""
He leaned back.
"That's a question you should ask her.""
I felt anger rising in my chest.
For the first time, it wasn't mixed with sadness.
It was sharp.
"Can I see the bank records?""
"Not every record yet. But as your father's attorney and the person responsible for protecting the trust, I can show you the relevant documents.""
He slid another sheet toward me.
There were transactions listed under a bank account ending in 8841.
The account holder was Linda Reyes.
Several transfers had been made from my father's trust into that account.
Some were labeled household expenses.
Others had no explanation.
Then I saw one transaction that made me stop.
$12,600.
The description read:
BRIANNA EDUCATIONAL FUND.
I looked up.
"Brianna has a college fund?""
Thomas nodded.
"Apparently.""
"Did Dad create it?""
"No. The transfer originated from your father's trust.""
Grandma's face turned red.
"That money was for Isabella.""
Thomas nodded.
"I understand.""
I stared at the paper.
I had spent the previous year working at the bakery, saving money for my future.
Brianna had been receiving money from my father's inheritance without ever having to ask.
And somehow, she still thought it was funny to destroy the one thing I had bought with my own earnings.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I asked Thomas for copies of everything.
He agreed.
Before we left, he made one final call.
"Linda Reyes," he said after someone answered.
I recognized my mother's voice immediately.
"Thomas? Why are you calling me?""
"I'd like to arrange a meeting regarding Daniel's trust.""
There was a pause.
"What about it?""
"We have identified several transactions that require explanation.""
Another pause.
Then my mother's voice became colder.
"I've already explained everything.""
"Not to me.""
"Thomas, this is a family matter.""
"It became a legal matter when documents were submitted under Evelyn's name without her authorization.""
Silence.
Then Linda said, "I think you need to remember who you're speaking to.""
Thomas didn't raise his voice.
"I remember exactly who I'm speaking to.""
He ended the call.
Grandma and I left his office carrying a thick envelope of documents.
On the drive home, I watched the buildings pass outside the window.
I kept thinking about my quinceañera.
The cake.
The flowers.
The empty chairs.
My father had worked for years to make sure I would have a future.
And my mother had allowed me to believe we couldn't afford one evening of celebration.
When we reached Grandma's house, there was a car parked outside.
My mother's SUV.
She was standing on the porch with her arms crossed.
Brianna sat in the passenger seat, staring at her phone.
Grandma turned off the engine.
"Stay here for a moment," she said.
But I opened the door.
I was tired of hiding.
My mother looked at me immediately.
"Isabella. Get in the car.""
I stood beside Grandma.
"No.""
Her eyebrows lifted.
"What did you say?""
"I said no.""
Linda looked at the envelope in my hand.
"What is that?""
"Documents from Dad's lawyer.""
Her expression changed.
"Give them to me.""
"No.""
"Isabella, don't make this difficult.""
Grandma stepped forward.
"She doesn't have to give you anything.""
My mother laughed bitterly.
"You've really enjoyed turning my daughter against me, haven't you?""
Grandma shook her head.
"Daniel's daughter deserves the truth.""
"Daniel is dead!""
The words exploded across the porch.
I flinched.
My mother continued.
"And I am the one who has been raising her. I am the one who has paid the bills, bought her clothes, put food on the table, and made sure she had a roof over her head.""
I looked at her.
"With Dad's money?""
Her mouth opened.
Then closed.
Brianna finally got out of the car.
"Mom, what's going on?""
Linda turned toward her.
"Nothing. Go inside.""
Brianna looked at the envelope.
"Is that about the bank account?""
Everyone went still.
I stared at her.
"What bank account?""
Brianna rolled her eyes.
"Mom, seriously?""
Linda grabbed her arm.
"Get in the house.""
Brianna pulled away.
"Why? She already knows, doesn't she?""
My heart began pounding.
"Knows what?""
Brianna looked at me.
For the first time in years, she wasn't smiling.
"That money was supposed to be ours.""
Grandma stepped forward.
"Excuse me?""
Brianna shrugged.
"Mom said Daniel promised to take care of us.""
I stared at her.
"My father promised to take care of me.""
"Whatever. Mom said he wanted us all to have a good life.""
"Did you know the money came from my account?""
Brianna looked away.
That was answer enough.
I felt something inside me collapse.
"You knew?""
"Don't act like you're the only person who needed help.""
"I worked for my dress.""
"So?""
"So you destroyed it!""
Brianna folded her arms.
"It was ugly anyway.""
My mother grabbed her shoulder.
"That's enough.""
But Brianna wasn't finished.
"You want to know why I got the money? Because Mom said I deserved it. She said you were too young to understand anything about finances.""
I stared at her.
"Seventy-five thousand dollars?""
Brianna looked surprised.
Then she turned toward my mother.
"Mom, you told me she didn't know the amount.""
Linda's face went white.
Grandma slowly looked at my mother.
"How much did you give her?""
Linda grabbed Brianna's arm.
"Get inside. Now.""
Brianna resisted.
"Mom!""
"NOW!""
Brianna stormed into the house.
My mother turned toward me.
"Listen carefully, Isabella. Whatever your grandmother and Thomas told you, they don't understand what happened after your father died.""
"Then explain it.""
"I used that money to keep this family together.""
"Why did you give Brianna seventy-five thousand dollars?""
"That was for her future.""
"What about mine?""
Linda stared at me.
"You had everything you needed.""
I looked down at my paint-stained shoes.
Everything I needed.
I thought about the nights I had gone to bed hungry because I wanted to save another five dollars.
The shoes I had worn until the soles cracked.
The dress I had bought with money earned from cleaning bakery trays.
"Mom, I needed a father.""
Her expression flickered.
"And I needed to survive after he died.""
Grandma's voice was low.
"Linda, stop making excuses.""
My mother turned on her.
"You have no idea what I went through!""
"I know what Daniel wanted.""
"You know what he wanted when he was alive. You weren't the one left with two children and a mortgage!""
Grandma looked stunned.
"Two children?""
My mother immediately fell silent.
I frowned.
"What does that mean?""
Linda rubbed her forehead.
"Nothing.""
Grandma looked at her carefully.
"Why did you say two children?""
My mother glanced toward the front window.
Then she looked at me.
"Isabella, go inside.""
I didn't move.
"Tell me.""
She exhaled sharply.
"Your father wasn't the only person who left money behind.""
Grandma's eyes narrowed.
"What are you talking about?""
Linda looked toward the car.
Then back at me.
"Brianna's biological father left her an inheritance, too.""
I stared at her.
"How much?""
"That's private.""
"Was it seventy-five thousand dollars?""
My mother said nothing.
Grandma's expression changed.
"Linda, what did you do?""
My mother stepped backward.
"Enough.""
"Did you take money from Brianna's inheritance, too?""
Linda looked at the ground.
And then she said something that made even Brianna, watching through the window, stop moving.
"I had to use one account to cover the other.""
Grandma went pale.
"What other account?""
My mother lifted her head.
"The money wasn't just Daniel's.""
I looked at her.
"Then whose was it?""
She stared directly at me.
And for the first time, I understood that the money my father had left might only be the beginning of the truth.
Because my mother had just admitted that she had been moving money between two children's inheritances.
And Thomas Whitaker had only investigated one of them.
That evening, at 9:42 p.m., Grandma's phone rang.
It was Thomas.
She put him on speaker.
"Thomas, what's wrong?""
His voice was urgent.
"Evelyn, I need you and Isabella to listen carefully.""
Grandma gripped the phone.
"What happened?""
"We checked the property records.""
"Which property?""
"Daniel's commercial building.""
I looked at Grandma.
Thomas continued.
"Someone filed paperwork to transfer ownership of the building three weeks ago.""
My stomach dropped.
"Who?"" I whispered.
There was a long silence.
Then Thomas answered.
"Linda Reyes.""
Grandma stood so quickly her chair scraped across the floor.
"That's impossible. Daniel placed that property in Isabella's trust.""
"I know. That's why I'm calling.""
"Was the transfer approved?""
"No. But someone submitted a document claiming Isabella had authorized the sale.""
I stared at him.
"I'm fourteen. I didn't sign anything.""
"I know, sweetheart.""
Thomas's voice became grave.
"And there's another problem.""
Grandma pressed the phone closer.
"What now?""
"The buyer has already paid a deposit.""
"How much?""
Thomas paused.
"Two hundred thousand dollars.""
I felt the room tilt.
"Who bought it?""
Thomas read the name from his screen.
Then he said:
"Linda's current husband, Mark Collins.""
I stopped breathing.
My mother had not only taken my father's savings.
May you like
She had apparently tried to sell the building he had left me.
And the buyer was the man who had helped raise the daughter who had destroyed my quinceañera dress.
