Chapter 5 - MY MOTHER'S LAST WARNING
My mother finally agreed to meet me at a hotel near the hospital.
She arrived wearing a cream coat and pearl earrings. Her hair was perfectly styled. She looked like the woman who had stood beside my father's grave and promised that the family would remain united.
I had once believed that promise.
Now I watched her sit across from me and wondered how many lies she had told while looking directly into my eyes.
“Daniel,” she began, “you look exhausted.”
“My wife was nearly buried alive.”
Her expression tightened.
“Don't use those words.”
“What words would you prefer? A medical misunderstanding?”
“Your brother made mistakes.”
“Did you?”
She looked down at her hands.
I placed a copy of the payment report on the table.
“Four hundred and twenty thousand dollars to Dr. Cole. Aster Medical Holdings. Money from our company.”
She didn't touch the report.
“Your father left a complicated business.”
“He left a company with audited accounts.”
“Your father was not perfect.”
“Neither am I. But I didn't put my pregnant wife in a coffin.”
Her eyes flashed.
“Marcus was trying to protect this family.”
“From what?”
“From you.”
I leaned back.
She continued, “You were overseas. You were going to return and change everything. You had no idea what was happening here.”
“I knew money was missing.”
“You knew nothing.”
“Then explain it.”
For a moment, she looked almost ready to speak. Then she glanced toward the window.
“Your father promised Marcus control of the company.”
“There's no evidence of that.”
“He was the oldest son.”
“That isn't a legal document.”
“He deserved it.”
I stared at her.
“So you helped him forge my signature?”
“I did not forge anything.”
“Did you know Elena had found the transfers?”
My mother said nothing.
“Did you know she was helping Rebecca?”
Her fingers tightened around the handle of her handbag.
“Your wife should have stayed out of family business.”
The words landed like a confession.
“She was my wife. She was protecting me.”
“She was destroying your brother.”
“By finding the truth?”
My mother looked at me with sudden anger.
“You don't understand what your father built. Marcus was supposed to inherit the company. Then you came back from the military with your perfect record and your father's trust. Everyone expected you to take over.”
“I never asked for that.”
“Exactly. You never asked. You simply received everything.”
I shook my head.
“This was never about what I received. It was about what Marcus wanted.”
She stood.
“Stop the investigation, Daniel. Let the company settle the accounts privately. Let Elena recover. Let your son grow up without a scandal.”
I looked at her.
“You're asking me to protect the people who tried to kill them.”
“I'm asking you to protect your family.”
“You are not protecting my family. You are protecting your position.”
Her face changed.
For the first time, I saw fear beneath the anger.
“Be careful,” she whispered. “There are things you don't know.”
“Then tell me.”
She leaned close.
“Your father knew Marcus was moving money. He knew about the doctor. He knew about the accounts.”
I went still.
“My father died three years ago.”
“He knew before he died.”
“Why didn't he stop it?”
“Because he was afraid of what would happen if the truth came out.”
I felt sick.
“What truth?”
My mother looked toward the door.
“I shouldn't have said anything.”
She turned to leave.
I caught her voice before she reached the exit.
“Mother.”
She stopped.
“Did you know Elena was alive when you arranged the funeral?”
Her shoulders rose.
Then she walked away.
***
Detective Grant reviewed the meeting recording later that afternoon.
“Your mother has admitted knowledge of the doctor and the accounts,” she said. “It's not enough to establish her role in the attempted killing, but it gives us grounds to investigate further.”
“Can you bring her in?”
“We can request a formal interview. But I want to know what your father knew first.”
She contacted Samuel Price.
The trustee confirmed that my father had privately reported irregular transfers eighteen months before his death. He had asked for a review but later withdrew the request.
“Why?” I asked.
Samuel hesitated.
“He said he had received a threat.”
“From Marcus?”
“He didn't say.”
I looked at the copy of my father's letter.
The company is a responsibility.
My father had seen something coming. He had tried to stop it, then backed away.
I wondered whether he had been afraid for himself, for my mother, or for me.
***
That evening, Elena opened her eyes again.
I was beside her when she whispered my name.
“Danny.”
I leaned forward.
“I'm here.”
Her lips trembled.
“Your mother…”
“I know.”
“No.” She struggled to breathe. “She… brought him.”
“Dr. Cole?”
Elena gave the smallest nod.
“Marcus… was outside.”
I held her hand.
“Did they hurt you?”
Tears slid toward her temples.
“I found… the ledger.”
“Where is it?”
She tried to answer, but the effort exhausted her. The nurse adjusted her oxygen and asked me to let her rest.
Before her eyes closed, Elena squeezed my fingers.
“Not… the house.”
I bent close.
“What?”
“Blue… room.”
Then she was asleep again.
I sat motionless.
The blue room.
My father had built a small reading room in the old boathouse beside the estate lake. The walls were painted blue. He kept private papers there, away from the main archive.
The ledger might still be there.
And if Elena had hidden it, she had done so because she knew someone would search the house.
I called Detective Grant.
“We need to go to the boathouse.”
After my mother left the hotel, I stayed at the table for several minutes. Her words had opened a new wound. If my father had known about the transfers, then his silence had been part of the story too.
I called Samuel Price.
“Did my father ever tell you he was afraid of Marcus?”
“He told me he was afraid of what Marcus was becoming,” Samuel replied. “He also worried that your mother was covering for him.”
“Did he say why?”
“He believed she had become convinced that keeping the family together mattered more than keeping it honest.”
I looked at the empty chair opposite me.
“Did he ever mention Dr. Cole?”
There was a pause.
“Yes. He asked me to review some payments to the clinic. I found irregularities, but before I could complete the review, your father withdrew the request.”
“Why?”
“He said he wanted to speak to the family first.”
I closed my eyes.
My father had given them one more chance. They had used it to prepare another lie.
Samuel promised to send every document he still held to Detective Grant. I thanked him and ended the call.
Then I returned to the hospital. Elena was awake, and I did not want her first clear memory of me to be another man sitting alone with bad news.
I left the hotel through a side entrance and called James Porter. He listened while I explained what my mother had said.
“Don't go after her,” he warned. “You won't get the truth by frightening her.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“You sound like you're planning something.”
I looked at the traffic moving beyond the glass doors.
“I want to know whether my father was killed.”
“Then let the investigators prove it. You have Elena and Evan to think about.”
He was right, and I hated that he was right.
James offered to stay at the hospital overnight so I could get a few hours of sleep. I almost refused. Then I remembered how close I had come to collapsing in the corridor.
I accepted.
Before leaving, I visited Elena. She was awake, but tired. I told her I had spoken to my mother and that the police were investigating the financial records.
“Did she admit anything?” Elena asked.
“She said my father knew.”
Elena closed her eyes.
“I think he tried to stop them.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“Maybe he thought he could fix it without hurting you.”
I sat beside her.
“That's what I thought too.”
She touched my hand. “We can't fix the past. We can protect what comes next.”
I kissed her forehead and stayed until she fell asleep.
On the way back to the hospital, I stopped at a small grocery store and bought the tea Elena liked. It was a pointless gesture; she was not yet allowed to drink it. But I wanted something ordinary to bring her, something that belonged to the life we had before the coffin.
I placed the packet on the bedside table.
“When you get home, I'll make it properly,” I told her.
May you like
Her eyes were closed, but her fingers shifted against mine.
I chose to believe she had heard me.
