Chapter 8 - My Father Knew She Was Sick
I did not sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Elise standing in our kitchen.
Barefoot.
Coffee in her hand.
Laughing.
Alive.
I replayed the morning of September 14 until memory became torture.
Had she complained about her head?
Yes.
Had she seemed worried?
Maybe.
Had Orson asked her something?
Yes.
What?
I could not remember.
At 4:00 a.m., I finally remembered a fragment.
Orson standing near the sink.
Elise rubbing her temple.
My father saying, “You should probably avoid getting worked up.”
At the time, it sounded dismissive.
Now it sounded informed.
By morning, police had reopened parts of the investigation surrounding Elise’s death.
Not because they believed her aneurysm had been caused intentionally.
There was no evidence of that.
But because someone had illegally obtained her confidential medical information before her death.
And because that person appeared to have been planning something involving me.
Lena warned me repeatedly.
“Do not jump ahead of the evidence.”
“I’m trying.”
“Your father knowing about the aneurysm does not mean he caused the rupture.”
“I know.”
“Say it again.”
“He did not cause it.”
“We don’t know that.”
I stared at her.
She held my gaze.
“That’s why we investigate instead of assume.”
I hated the sentence.
But I needed it.
Willa came to my house that afternoon.
Her wrist was bruised from Evan grabbing her.
Juniper ran to her.
“Willa!”
Willa knelt and hugged her carefully.
“I missed you, little bird.”
Juniper whispered something into her ear.
Willa smiled.
Then her eyes filled with tears.
After Meredith took Juniper into the kitchen, Willa sat with me.
“I should’ve told you sooner.”
“Told me what?”
“Your dad hated Elise.”
“I knew they fought.”
“No.”
Willa shook her head.
“You didn’t see how he looked at her when you weren’t there.”
My throat tightened.
“Why?”
“Because she was the only person who told him no.”
That sounded exactly like Elise.
“She also figured out he’d borrowed money.”
“What money?”
Willa looked surprised.
“You don’t know?”
“No.”
“From your mother’s estate.”
I stared at her.
“Dad handled everything after Mom died.”
“I know.”
“Are you saying he stole from it?”
“I heard Elise accuse him.”
“When?”
“About a month before she died.”
I stood.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I was twenty-four.”
“You were old enough to know.”
She flinched.
I immediately regretted my tone.
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
Willa shook her head.
“You’re right.”
She looked at her hands.
“I was scared of him.”
That silenced me.
“I still am.”
I sat again.
“What exactly did Elise say?”
“She said, ‘If Caleb sees the transfers, you’re finished.’”
My skin turned cold.
“What transfers?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Dad answer?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Willa looked at me.
“He said you would never believe Elise over him.”
Pain hit harder than anger.
Because two years ago, he might have been right.
Orson had been my father.
The man who taught me to ride a bicycle.
The man who attended every school performance.
The man who held me while I cried at my mother’s funeral.
Elise came into my life later.
And whenever she challenged Orson, I often tried to keep peace.
How many times had I told her—
“He means well.”
“He’s just controlling.”
“Let it go.”
“He’s family.”
Shame burned through me.
Willa touched my arm.
“Elise knew you loved her.”
“I didn’t listen enough.”
“You didn’t know.”
“She tried to tell me.”
Before Willa could answer, Lena called.
“Come to my office.”
“What happened?”
“The trust company responded.”
I drove there immediately.
Lena had Elise’s trust records spread across a conference table.
The trust had been worth $3.4 million when Elise died.
I had remembered correctly.
But six months before her death, someone attempted to amend the successor guardian provisions.
The proposed change would have named Orson as financial co-guardian if Elise died before Juniper turned eighteen.
The amendment was never completed.
“Elise refused?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“Her trust attorney documented it.”
Lena handed me a letter.
Elise had written:
Under no circumstance should Orson Mercer control funds belonging to Juniper.
I stared at her signature.
Lena continued.
“Two days later, someone called the trust office pretending to be Elise.”
My head came up.
“What?”
“They attempted to obtain account-access information.”
“Was it Tabitha?”
“We don’t know.”
“The call was recorded?”
“Yes.”
My heart accelerated.
“Can we hear it?”
“Eventually.”
She turned another page.
“More importantly, the trust has a guardianship clause.”
“What clause?”
“If both parents die or the surviving parent is legally declared unfit, Elise nominated three potential guardians in order.”
I knew the first.
Me.
“What’s second?”
“Her sister Naomi.”
I frowned.
“Elise didn’t have a sister.”
Lena looked at me.
“That’s what I thought you’d say.”
I stared at the document.
Naomi Bennett.
Relationship: Sister.
I read it twice.
“Elise was an only child.”
“Apparently not.”
“Who is Naomi?”
“We’re trying to locate her.”
“Why would Elise never tell me?”
“I don’t know.”
“And who is third?”
Lena hesitated.
Then turned the page.
Tabitha Mercer.
My sister.
I felt physically sick.
“She nominated Tabitha?”
“Seven years ago.”
Before Juniper was born.
Before Elise and Tabitha’s relationship deteriorated.
“What happens if Naomi can’t be found?”
“Tabitha moves up.”
“And if I’m declared unfit?”
“She could become Juniper’s guardian.”
“And control trust distributions.”
“Yes.”
Everything came into focus.
Not perfectly.
But enough.
Tabitha did not need me dead.
She needed me legally removed.
Orson did not need control of the whole trust.
He needed someone he controlled appointed over Juniper.
Lena’s phone buzzed.
She read a message.
Her face changed.
“What?”
“They found Naomi.”
“Where?”
“Portland.”
“Who is she?”
Lena looked at me.
“She says she is Elise’s half-sister.”
My mouth went dry.
“Why didn’t Elise tell me?”
“I don’t know.”
“There’s more, isn’t there?”
“Yes.”
Naomi had already spoken with investigators.
And according to her—
Elise called her three days before she died.
During that call, Elise said:
May you like
“If something happens to me, don’t let Orson anywhere near my daughter.”
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