Chapter 3: The Thing She Didn't Want Me to See
Diane still hadn't looked up from her phone.
Lauren moved toward her.
"Mom.
What is it?"
"Nothing." Diane slid the phone into her coat pocket.
"It's nothing."
But her hands weren't steady.
Ethan was watching her the same way I was.
He took a slow step to the side, positioning himself between Diane and the hallway where Lily was still standing.
"Lily, sweetheart," he said quietly, "can you go get your coloring book?
The one on your bed?"
Lily looked at Diane once, then at me.
She turned and disappeared down the hall.
The moment she was gone, I said, "Who sent that message?"
"I told you.
It's nothing."
"You went white, Diane.
That's not nothing."
She finally looked up.
Something in her expression had shifted — the aggression was still there, but underneath it was something I hadn't seen before.
Something closer to fear.
"This conversation is about the house," she said.
"That's why we're here."
"You came to my house on the day after Christmas and accused me of stealing from my own family.
I think we're past the original agenda."
Lauren stepped forward.
"Emily, stop trying to redirect —"
"Lauren." Ethan's voice was flat.
"You searched county property records on Christmas morning.
While your niece was opening presents.
I'd like to understand that."
Lauren's jaw tightened.
"I was curious."
"About what?"
"About why my sister has been playing poor for a year while sitting on a four-hundred-thousand-dollar property."
"We weren't playing anything," I said.
"We were being careful.
That's allowed."
"With Grandma Helen's money."
"With money Grandma Helen left to me in her will.
Not to the family.
To me.
I have the original document.
I have the transfer records.
I have every bank statement going back to the day she passed."
Diane made a sound — not quite a word.
She pressed two fingers to her mouth.
I looked at her.
"What did you think was in that account, Diane?"
She didn't answer.
"Did you think there was more?
Did you think there was money that should have come to you?"
"Your grandmother —" She stopped.
"Say it."
"Your grandmother was not always clear-headed in her final years." The words came out carefully, like she'd been holding them a long time.
"The decisions she made near the end were not always sound."
The room went very still.
"Are you saying her will wasn't valid?" Ethan asked.
"I'm saying it should have been reviewed."
"It was reviewed," I said.
"By her attorney.
By the probate court.
By everyone required to review it.
It was valid.
It has always been valid."
Diane's chin lifted.
"There was a second account."
I felt something shift in my chest.
"What?"
"Your grandmother had a second investment account.
Smaller.
She told me about it before she passed." Her voice steadied as she spoke, like the words were giving her something back.
"She said she was going to make sure everyone was taken care of.
Not just you."
"I never received anything from a second account."
"No." Diane's eyes met mine.
"You didn't."
Lauren was very quiet now.
I looked between them.
"Where did that money go?"
Neither of them answered.
Ethan moved to the desk in the corner and picked up his phone without a word.
"What are you doing?" Lauren asked.
"Calling our attorney," he said.
"Since this conversation just became something different."
Diane's hand went back to her coat pocket, where her phone was.
She didn't take it out.
But her fingers pressed against it through the fabric, like she was making sure it was still there.
May you like
Whatever that message had said — whoever had sent it — had arrived at exactly the wrong moment for her.
Or exactly the right moment for me.
