Chapter 12 - Rachel Breaks
Rebecca told me not to confront Rachel.
So I didn’t.
Police did.
With enough documentation from the cyber investigation and tracking incident, investigators had finally begun taking the broader pattern seriously.
Rachel called me three hours after they visited her clinic.
She was crying.
“You did this.”
“You impersonated my wife.”
“I was helping Mom.”
“You threatened Megan.”
“Mom said she was unstable.”
“You planted lies in Noah’s medical record.”
“I didn’t change anything!”
“You called pretending to be Megan.”
Silence.
“That was Mom’s idea.”
There it was.
The first crack.
“Where’s Dad’s toolbox?”
Rachel stopped crying.
“What?”
“Don’t.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I have a photograph.”
Silence.
“Who sent it?”
“I asked you a question.”
Rachel whispered, “You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
“Dad wasn’t innocent.”
“What does that mean?”
“Mom said he was stealing from us.”
“From who?”
“The family.”
“He earned the money.”
“She said he was going to leave us with nothing.”
“So you knew about the divorce?”
“I was twenty.”
“So was I.”
“You were away at college.”
“So were you.”
“I came home more.”
I almost laughed.
Even now she was competing.
“Where is the box?”
Rachel began breathing faster.
“Mom gave it to me.”
“When?”
“After Dad died.”
“Why?”
“She told me never to open it.”
“And you listened for eleven years?”
“No.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“What’s inside?”
“Copies of bank records.”
“What else?”
“Letters.”
“From Dad?”
“Yes.”
“To who?”
“You.”
I stopped breathing.
Dad had written to me.
“Why didn’t I get them?”
“Mom said they’d destroy you.”
My voice dropped.
“Rachel.”
“I was twenty-three, okay? Dad had just died. Mom was falling apart.”
“And then?”
“Years passed.”
“So you kept them.”
“I forgot.”
“You photographed the box recently.”
Silence.
“Why?”
“Because Mom asked for it back.”
“When?”
“Two weeks ago.”
The same period her campaign against Megan escalated.
“Why?”
“She said there was something inside she needed.”
“What?”
“A flash drive.”
“Did you give it to her?”
“No.”
“Where is it?”
Rachel started crying again.
“I have it.”
I looked at Megan.
“Bring it to my attorney.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Mom knows.”
“So?”
“You still don’t understand.”
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“She didn’t do all this because she hates Megan.”
“Then why?”
“Because Megan found Dad’s name.”
“Where?”
“In the financial documents.”
“What financial documents?”
“The ones for your house.”
I felt suddenly cold.
“Our house?”
Rachel whispered, “The down payment didn’t come from Mom like she told you.”
I remembered the check.
Eighty thousand dollars.
A wedding gift.
Mom said it came from Dad’s life insurance.
Rachel continued.
“That money came from an account Dad told her never to touch.”
My stomach tightened.
“What account?”
“The trust.”
“What trust?”
There was a long pause.
“Yours.”
I stood.
“Mine?”
“Dad created it before he died.”
“How much?”
Rachel whispered a number.
I thought I had misheard.
“Say that again.”
“Just over one-point-eight million dollars.”
My legs almost gave out.
“I don’t have a trust.”
“You did.”
“Did?”
May you like
Rachel began sobbing.
“Daniel… Mom emptied it.”
