Chapter 5 - Teresa’s Lie
Teresa looked smaller in the hospital bed.
Her gray hair was braided loosely over one shoulder. A purple bruise climbed from her jaw to her ear. One hand shook when she tried to lift a paper cup.
Mara took it from her.
“Daniel says my name is in Charles’s ledger.”
Teresa stopped breathing for a second.
That was answer enough.
“You knew.”
“Yes.”
“Six years before I met Daniel?”
“Yes.”
Mara set the cup down too hard. Water splashed across the tray.
“Why?”
Teresa stared at the blanket.
“I promised your mother I would never tell you unless I had no choice.”
“My mother has been dead eleven years.”
“I know.”
Mara stood so quickly pain cut across her abdomen.
Teresa reached out. “Sit.”
“Don’t tell me to sit.”
“Mara—”
“Everyone in that house knew something about my life except me.”
Teresa flinched.
Mara hated that she enjoyed seeing it.
Then she hated herself.
Teresa explained in pieces.
Mara’s mother, June Bennett, had once worked as a junior accountant for Cross Meridian. She discovered payments routed through shell companies controlled by Evelyn’s brother. June copied records and confronted Charles.
Instead of going to police, Charles paid her to stay quiet.
Mara’s stomach turned.
“My mother took money?”
“Yes.”
“No.”
“She did.”
Mara walked to the window.
Teresa did not soften it.
“She was scared. Your father had just lost his job. You were nine. She made a bad choice.”
Mara pressed her palm against the glass.
A bad choice.
Not a misunderstanding. Not noble sacrifice dressed in clean clothes.
Her mother had taken the money.
“Then why was my name in the ledger?”
“Charles wrote notes beside everyone he considered a future risk. Your mother. Your father. You.”
Mara turned. “A child?”
“An eventual witness. Someone who might inherit copies.”
“Did she leave copies?”
Teresa looked away.
Mara’s pulse quickened. “Teresa.”
“I don’t know where.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Yes.”
Before Mara could answer, Teresa began coughing. The monitor beeped faster.
A nurse hurried in.
Teresa grabbed Mara’s wrist with surprising strength.
“Blue room,” she whispered.
“I know.”
“No. Not the room.”
Teresa’s eyes widened.
“The color.”
Then her monitor alarm screamed.
Mara was pushed backward as nurses crowded the bed.
On the floor beneath Teresa’s pillow, something slid free.
May you like
A tiny brass key tied to a faded strip of blue ribbon.
