CHAPTER 8 The Truth Sarah Took to Her Grave
For six years, I had accepted the explanation.
Cancer.
A cruel disease.
A battle that Sarah fought until her final breath.
Doctors had explained everything.
The medical records were clear.
The funeral was real.
The pain was real.
But now a man I barely knew had planted a thought in my mind that refused to disappear.
Sarah didn’t die because of her illness.
She died because she discovered the truth.
I hated myself for even considering it.
Because Sarah deserved better than suspicion.
She deserved my trust.
But my daughter deserved answers.
And that meant I had to uncover everything.
The next morning, I went directly to Sarah’s oncologist.
Dr. Michael Reynolds had treated her from the beginning.
He was retired now, living quietly outside the city.
When he opened the door and saw me, his expression changed.
“Richard.”
He looked surprised.
“I didn’t expect to see you.”
“I need to ask you something.”
His smile faded.
“About Sarah?”
I nodded.
His face became serious.
“Come inside.”
We sat in his old study surrounded by medical books and photographs from a career that had lasted over forty years.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I placed the blue notebook on the table.
Dr. Reynolds looked at it.
His face changed.
“You found that.”
I froze.
“You know about this?”
He looked away.
“Sarah told me she was keeping records.”
My heart started racing.
“What records?”
“About people she didn’t trust.”
“Who?”
He didn’t answer.
I leaned forward.
“Doctor.”
He sighed.
“Eleanor.”
The name sounded heavier now.
Like every person who said it was carrying a secret.
“You knew?”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
His expression became painful.
“Because Sarah asked me not to.”
That answer hurt.
“Why?”
“Because she believed you were being watched.”
I stared at him.
“By who?”
He looked at the window.
“Thomas Vale.”
I stood immediately.
“Thomas was involved before Sarah died?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Dr. Reynolds took a deep breath.
“About three months before Sarah passed away, she started asking strange questions.”
“What kind of questions?”
“She wanted to know if someone could access medical information without permission.”
My stomach tightened.
“Why would she ask that?”
“Because she believed someone was manipulating her treatment.”
The room became silent.
“Are you saying her treatment was changed?”
“I’m saying Sarah believed it was possible.”
“Did you?”
He looked uncomfortable.
“I investigated.”
“And?”
“I found irregularities.”
My hands tightened.
“What irregularities?”
“Certain records had been accessed.”
“By who?”
He looked at me.
“Someone using Eleanor’s credentials.”
The world seemed to slow down.
“No.”
I whispered the word.
Not because I didn’t believe him.
Because I didn’t want to.
Dr. Reynolds continued.
“I never found proof Eleanor personally did anything.”
“But someone used her access.”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
His answer came quietly.
“Thomas Vale.”
I left the doctor’s house with more questions than answers.
But one thing was clear.
Sarah had been afraid.
And she had been right.
When I returned home, I found Eleanor waiting in my office.
She looked exhausted.
Not angry.
Not defensive.
Just tired.
“You talked to him.”
I stopped.
“How do you know?”
“You have been searching for answers.”
She looked at the notebook in my hand.
“You found Sarah’s journal.”
I said nothing.
Then she whispered:
“She hated me.”
I stared at her.
“Sarah?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because she thought I wanted to replace her.”
“Did you?”
Eleanor looked hurt.
“No.”
A pause.
“I wanted a family.”
“You wanted her life.”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“That’s what everyone thinks.”
“Because your actions made it look that way.”
She looked down.
Then said something unexpected.
“Sarah was the only person who knew what Thomas was capable of.”
I froze.
“What?”
Eleanor walked toward the window.
“Thomas introduced himself to me years before I met you.”
I narrowed my eyes.
“You said he was your friend.”
“He was.”
“Then why was Sarah investigating him?”
“Because she discovered he wasn’t helping me.”
“What was he doing?”
Eleanor turned around.
“He was using me.”
The answer shocked me.
“What does that mean?”
“He convinced me that Sarah was controlling you. That she was keeping Maya too dependent on you. That your family would never accept me.”
I stared at her.
“And you believed him?”
“Yes.”
The honesty surprised me.
“Why?”
Her voice cracked.
“Because I was lonely.”
For the first time, I saw something different.
Not the villain.
Not the perfect wife.
A person who had made terrible choices.
“I thought Thomas was helping me become part of this family.”
She wiped her tears.
“But he was building something else.”
“What?”
She looked at me.
“A way to control everyone.”
Before I could respond, my phone rang.
Daniel.
I answered immediately.
“Tell me.”
His voice was urgent.
“Sir, we found Thomas.”
My body tensed.
“Where?”
“He’s in the city.”
“Send me the location.”
A pause.
“Sir…”
“What?”
“He’s not alone.”
“Who is with him?”
Daniel hesitated.
Then:
“Someone from your family.”
My eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Your brother.”
I froze.
“My brother died eight years ago.”
Silence.
Then Daniel said:
“Sir…”
“I think you need to see this yourself.”
Twenty minutes later, Daniel sent a photograph.
A man standing beside Thomas.
Older.
Different hairstyle.
But impossible to mistake.
Because I knew that face.
I had seen it in family photos.
I had seen it at my father’s funeral.
I had seen it in memories I thought were buried forever.
The caption under the photograph said:
"Thomas Vale with Alexander Sterling."
My brother.
The brother who had died.
The brother whose grave I had visited.
The brother who was supposed to be gone.
I stared at the picture.
Then another message appeared from Daniel.
"Richard, there is something else."
I opened it.
A second photograph.
This one taken yesterday.
It showed Thomas.
Alexander.
And someone else.
A woman.
A woman I recognized immediately.
Because she was standing in my house.
At my dining table.
Smiling beside Eleanor.
May you like
The woman was one of Eleanor’s closest friends.
Vanessa.
