For several seconds, nobody moved.
I stared at my mother.
She stared at the floor.
Dana broke the silence.
“Tell her everything.”
Mom wiped her face.
“Your father met Grant when Grant was young.”
“How young?”
“Twenty.”
“That was before I knew him.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because Grant’s father worked for Victor.”
I sat down.
“What did Grant have to do with Northbridge?”
“Nothing at first.”
“At first?”
Mom nodded.
“He became involved after his father died.”
“Then what?”
“Your father helped him.”
“How?”
“He gave him a job.”
I remembered Grant telling me he had started from nothing.
He had always said his first serious opportunity came from a family friend.
I had never asked who.
“Dad.”
“Yes.”
Mom continued.
“Your father wanted Grant close.”
“Why?”
“Because he believed Grant could eventually expose Victor.”
Dana looked at her.
“But he married Rachel.”
Mom closed her eyes.
“That wasn't part of the original plan.”
I felt sick.
“What wasn't?”
“You meeting him.”
“What?”
“Your father didn't plan your marriage.”
I stared at her.
“Then why did he know him?”
“Because Grant was already working for him.”
“Before I met him?”
“Yes.”
“Did Dad tell Grant who I was?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Mom whispered:
“Because he wanted to know whether Grant could be trusted.”
I stood.
“So I was a test?”
“No.”
“It sounds like I was.”
“He cared about you.”
“He lied to me.”
Mom began crying again.
“And I let him.”
I turned away.
Dana picked up the old document.
“Rachel, there's something important here.”
“What?”
“This agreement predates your marriage.”
She showed me the date.
It was twenty-three years old.
But Grant's name appeared as a beneficiary.
“That's impossible.”
“Not if the name was added later.”
She pointed to the ink.
“The paper is old. The signature isn't.”
“What does that mean?”
“Someone added Grant recently.”
I stared.
“So Grant didn't have anything to do with the original trust.”
“Correct.”
“Then why was his name added?”
Dana shook her head.
“We need the original ledger.”
The hidden room suddenly felt smaller.
I walked toward the cabinets.
“If the ledger is missing, where would Dad keep it?”
Mom answered immediately.
“His old farmhouse.”
The same property connected to Rebecca.
I looked at her.
“You said Rebecca lived there.”
“Yes.”
“Could she still be there?”
“I don't know.”
Dana checked the time.
“We go during daylight.”
We left the house together.
Before getting into the car, I looked back at my childhood home.
The place that had always felt solid now seemed built around hidden doors.
We drove forty minutes toward the farmhouse.
Nobody spoke much.
When we arrived, the property looked abandoned.
Tall grass surrounded the old building.
The windows were dark.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, dust covered everything.
A kitchen.
A living room.
An old bedroom.
And a child's room.
I stopped in the doorway.
On the wall were pencil marks measuring height.
Four years old.
Six.
Eight.
Ten.
The name written beside them was Rebecca.
I touched one of the marks.
Mom stood behind me.
“She grew up here?”
“For a while.”
“Why didn't I know?”
“You were little.”
“That's not an answer.”
“No.”
Mom looked away.
“It isn't.”
Dana searched the room.
She found a loose floorboard.
Beneath it was a metal box.
Inside were photographs.
Letters.
And a cassette tape.
I stared at the tape.
“Who has a cassette player?”
Mom shook her head.
I remembered something.
Dad's office.
The old stereo he refused to throw away.
We took the box back to the house.
Dana found a player in a storage closet.
The tape crackled.
Then my father's voice filled the room.
“If you're hearing this, Rebecca has returned.”
I looked at Mom.
The recording continued.
“Victor believes she has the original ledger.”
I leaned closer.
“She does not.”
My heartbeat increased.
“I have it.”
Mom whispered:
“Oh God.”
Dad continued.
“I moved the ledger because Victor cannot be allowed to find it.”
A pause.
“If Rachel ever learns the truth, she must understand that the money was never stolen from the investors.”
Dana looked at me.
Dad's voice continued.
“The money was recovered.”
I felt confused.
“Recovered from what?”
Then came the answer.
“Victor's fraud.”
The recording crackled.
“He created false accounts and transferred investor funds into shell companies.”
The story was finally beginning to make sense.
My father had not created the original fraud.
He had uncovered it.
But then why had he hidden everything?
Dad continued.
“I used my personal assets to cover the losses temporarily.”
He sounded exhausted.
“Victor threatened my family.”
I closed my eyes.
“So I created the Lakewood Trust.”
The tape clicked.
“For Rebecca.”
I looked at Mom.
“Not me.”
“No.”
“Why was my name added?”
“I don't know.”
Dad's voice continued.
“When Rebecca disappeared, I believed she was dead.”
The room became silent.
“I transferred the trust to a structure that could protect the assets until she could be found.”
The tape crackled again.
“Rachel was never supposed to be the final beneficiary.”
I stared at the machine.
Then the final sentence came.
“Grant is not the heir.”
The tape stopped.
Nobody moved.
Dana rewound it.
We listened again.
The same words.
Grant is not the heir.
I looked at Mom.
“Then who is?”
She whispered:
“Rebecca.”
A knock came from the front door.
We froze.
Dana motioned for silence.
Another knock.
Then a man's voice.
“Rachel?”
Grant.
I stood.
“What are you doing here?”
He entered slowly.
“I need to talk to you.”
“How did you find us?”
“I followed your mother.”
Mom looked away.
Grant saw the tape.
His face changed.
“You found it.”
“Yes.”
“What did you know?”
He looked at me.
“Enough to be afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of Victor.”
“Why?”
“Because he knows the ledger exists.”
“And you?”
“I was trying to find it first.”
“For him?”
“No.”
“For my father?”
“Yes.”
I didn't know whether to believe him.
“Where is Dad?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
“I swear I'm not.”
“Then why did you go to the bank?”
“Because your father asked me to.”
“When?”
“The night before he disappeared.”
“What did he tell you?”
Grant looked at Mom.
“He told me to protect you.”
I almost laughed.
“You had a strange way of doing that.”
“I know.”
“Sleeping with Celeste?”
His face tightened.
“I was trying to get information.”
“You betrayed me.”
“Yes.”
“Don't explain it.”
He nodded.
“I deserve that.”
Dana stepped between us.
“What happened to Celeste?”
Grant looked surprised.
“She left.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
My phone vibrated.
Rebecca.
I opened the message.
HE IS LYING ABOUT CELESTE.
I looked at Grant.
He noticed my expression.
“What?”
I didn't answer.
Another message arrived.
SHE NEVER LEFT.
Then:
SHE IS AT YOUR PARENTS’ HOUSE.
I looked at Mom.
She went pale.
“No.”
“What?”
“She couldn't be.”
I showed Dana.
We immediately called the police.
When we returned to my parents’ house, the front door was open.
The hallway was dark.
“Mom?”
No answer.
We entered.
The hidden room was open.
Files were scattered across the floor.
Someone had been searching.
Then I heard a noise upstairs.
We climbed the stairs.
My old bedroom door was open.
Inside stood Celeste.
She was holding a folder.
I stopped.
“You said you left.”
She looked at Grant.
“I never said that.”
Grant stared at her.
“What are you doing here?”
Celeste looked at me.
“I came for the ledger.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor has it.”
My stomach tightened.
“You just said he doesn't.”
“He does now.”
“How?”
“Your father gave it to him.”
I shook my head.
“Why would he do that?”
“Because your father was trying to save Rebecca.”
I looked at Grant.
“What does Rebecca have to do with Victor?”
Celeste whispered:
“Everything.”
She opened the folder.
Inside was a recent photograph.
Rebecca.
Alive.
Standing beside my father.
The date was three weeks earlier.
My breath caught.
“Where was this taken?”
Celeste looked at me.
“The farmhouse.”
I stared.
“She was there?”
“Yes.”
“Then where is she now?”
Celeste's expression changed.
“Victor took her.”
Grant stepped forward.
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
I felt the room tilt.
“Where?”
Celeste looked at me.
“He took her to the place where the original company started.”
“The old office?”
“No.”
She shook her head.
“Your father's first bank.”
Dana frowned.
“Which one?”
Celeste answered:
“The same bank where your father disappeared.”
Then she looked at me.
“And he didn't disappear alone.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 7: We Returned to the Bank Where My Father Vanished, and the Security Footage Revealed Someone Had Been Lying About That Night
The Night I Left With One Bag, Three Children, and No Idea That My Father’s Closed Door Was Only the Beginning
Part 6 of 7
