Chapter 3
I took Mia home that afternoon.
She didn’t want to remove my coat.
Even after we reached the house, she kept it wrapped around the torn princess dress.
I sat beside her on the couch.
“You never have to protect Vanessa.”
Mia looked at me carefully.
“She said you’d be mad if I told.”
“I’m mad at her.”
“Not me?”
“Never for telling the truth.”
Her shoulders finally relaxed.
I called my attorney, Grace Miller.
She arrived within an hour.
I showed her the forged school authorization.
Then the trust envelope.
Grace’s expression changed immediately.
“Your mother’s trust is substantial.”
“I know.”
“Who controls it?”
“I’m trustee until Mia turns twenty-five.”
“And after your mother died?”
“Nothing changed.”
Grace pulled out her laptop.
“Maybe someone tried to change it.”
We logged into the trust portal.
My password failed.
I tried again.
Locked.
Grace called the financial institution.
After verifying my identity, the representative said something that made my stomach twist.
“A trustee modification request was submitted three weeks ago.”
“By who?”
“We can provide that information after legal verification.”
Grace took over.
Within twenty minutes, we received the filing.
My name was listed.
My signature appeared again.
Forged.
The request attempted to add Vanessa as co-trustee.
Grace stared at the screen.
“She’s trying to get access to Mia’s money.”
I shook my head.
“Why?”
“Maybe because she believes she can.”
Then another document appeared.
A proposed transfer of $180,000 from the trust into a consulting account.
Recipient:
VHC Family Services.
Grace searched the company.
“Registered six months ago.”
“Owner?”
She turned the laptop toward me.
Vanessa H. Carter.
I felt cold.
“She created a company to steal from Mia.”
Grace nodded.
“And she almost succeeded.”
Police now had enough to expand the investigation.
A search warrant was requested.
That evening, Mia finally changed clothes.
I carefully folded the torn princess dress.
“Can we fix it?” she asked.
“I’ll try.”
She touched the ripped sleeve.
“It was Mom’s.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Mom bought it.”
Rachel had mailed the dress two weeks earlier.
Vanessa told me it came from the school costume department.
“Did Vanessa know?”
Mia nodded.
“She saw the note.”
“What note?”
Mia went upstairs.
A moment later, she returned with a pink envelope hidden inside a book.
I recognized Rachel’s handwriting.
I hadn’t heard from my ex-wife in nearly three months.
The letter was addressed to Mia.
Inside, Rachel apologized for being away.
Then one paragraph changed everything.
I’m trying to come home soon. Aunt Vanessa is not telling you the truth about why I left.
I read it twice.
Mia watched my face.
“Daddy?”
“Yes?”
“Aunt Vanessa said Mommy doesn’t want me.”
My chest hurt.
“No.”
“She said Mommy moved away because I cried too much.”
I pulled my daughter into my arms.
“That is not why your mother left.”
But I suddenly realized I didn’t know the real reason either.
I had accepted Rachel’s short explanation that she needed space after our marriage collapsed.
Now I wondered who had helped that marriage collapse.
My phone rang.
Grace.
“Police searched Vanessa’s house.”
“And?”
“They found Mia’s letters.”
I closed my eyes.
“All of them?”
“More than twenty.”
Then Grace went quiet.
“What else?”
“Letters addressed to you.”
May you like
“From who?”
“Rachel.”
