PART4
She looked down.
“I had debts.”
“And you decided to make me responsible for them?”
“You were earning well!”
I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.
My father looked at her in disbelief.
“That is your explanation?”
My mother suddenly became defensive.
“You don’t understand what it’s like! I was managing everything in this house. Your father was always working. Sebastian needed help. There were bills, expenses, things that had to be taken care of!”
“And Chloe paid you for three years!” my father shouted.
“She was living here!”
I felt something inside me break.
There it was.
The real explanation.
In her mind, I hadn’t been helping my family.
I had simply been paying for the privilege of belonging to it.
I took a slow breath.
“I also paid for the property taxes twice when you said the account was short. I paid for the roof repairs last spring. I covered the heating system when it stopped working. And I paid for the new kitchen appliances.”
My father turned toward me.
“You paid for the roof?”
I nodded.
“And the heating system?”
“Yes.”
He looked at my mother.
“Rebecca?”
She said nothing.
I continued.
“I never complained. I never asked for anything back. I thought I was helping you both. But I was never told the truth.”
My father lowered his head.
For a moment, he looked older than I had ever seen him.
Then he reached for his phone.
“What are you doing?” my mother asked.
“Calling the bank.”
“Arthur, don’t.”
“I’m checking every account connected to this house.”
She grabbed his wrist.
“Please. We can talk about this privately.”
He gently pulled away.
“No. We have been talking privately for three years. Apparently, that hasn’t worked.”
He walked into the living room.
I remained beside the table.
Sebastian was staring at the transfer statement.
He looked up at me.
“Chloe, I honestly didn’t know.”
I nodded.
“Maybe you didn’t.”
“Then why are you acting like I stole from you?”
“I’m not acting like anything. I’m showing you where the money went.”
He looked down again.
For once, he had nothing clever to say.
A few minutes later, my father returned.
His face was completely different.
He had spoken to the bank’s after-hours support line and had been told that the house had no outstanding mortgage.
There had been no mortgage for years.
No refinancing.
No repayment arrangement.
No lender waiting to take the property.
He looked directly at my mother.
“You lied to our daughter.”
She began crying again.
He shook his head.
“You made her believe she was saving this house when there was nothing to save.”
My mother reached for his hand.
“Arthur, I can explain everything.”
He stepped away.
“Then explain why she was working herself to exhaustion while you were spending her money.”
Nobody spoke.
Then my father looked at me.
“Chloe, why didn’t you tell me?”
I looked at him for a long moment.
“Because Mom asked me not to.”
He frowned.
“She told me you couldn’t handle the stress. She said you were already struggling financially. She said if I told you, it would destroy your marriage.”
My father stared at her.
“Our marriage?”
My mother looked down.
I continued.
“She made me promise not to tell you. She said I was the only person she could trust.”
My father’s eyes filled with tears.
“And you carried all of that alone?”
I nodded.
For the first time that night, I felt tears gathering in my own eyes.
“Yes, Dad.”
He looked at the mug sitting beside my plate.
The white mug.
Dare to fly.
Then he looked at my suitcase.
“You were really leaving?”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“Where will you go?”
“I have an apartment.”
My mother immediately looked up.
“You have an apartment?”
“Yes.”
“When did you get that?”
“Two months ago.”
She looked almost offended.
“You didn’t tell us?”
I gave her a small smile.
“You never asked where I planned to go after you told me to leave.”
My father closed his eyes.
Then he walked over to me.
“Chloe, I don’t know what to say.”
I looked at him.
“Start by telling me the truth about what you knew.”
He seemed confused.
“What?”
I took the blue folder from the table.
“Dad, there is one more thing.”
He looked at me.
“What now?”
I pulled out a document I had almost forgotten about.
It was an email printed on paper.
An email from our family accountant, dated eight months earlier.
I had received it because my mother had accidentally forwarded it to me while asking me to transfer another payment.
I had never understood why the accountant was asking about a missing amount.
Until now.
I handed it to my father.
He read the first paragraph.
Then the second.
His face slowly lost its color.
“Rebecca…”
My mother froze.
“What?”
He looked at the bottom of the page.
Then he looked at me.
“Chloe, where did you get this?”
“Mom forwarded it to me by mistake.”
My father held the paper tightly.
It wasn’t just about the money.
It was about something that had happened before I ever started making those monthly payments.
Something that suggested my mother had been hiding financial problems long before she came to me.
And according to the email, there was another person who knew exactly what had happened.
My father looked toward Sebastian.
Then back at Rebecca.
“Is this why you asked Chloe to keep everything secret?”
My mother began shaking her head.
“No. Arthur, please. Don’t bring that up.”
My father slowly placed the email on the table.
“Then I think it’s time we talk about what happened to the money from your mother’s inheritance.”
I stopped breathing.
Because I had never heard about an inheritance.
And judging by my mother’s expression, neither had Sebastian.
