CHAPTER THREE
I couldn’t believe it.
“Olivia knew?”
Aunt Meredith nodded.
“She came to my house two days before the accident.”
“Why?”
“She said she wanted to talk.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
“What did she say?”
Aunt Meredith looked uncomfortable.
“She asked whether you had told me about the money.”
My throat tightened.
“What money?”
“The money from your mother’s account.”
I stared at her.
“My mother’s account?”
Aunt Meredith sighed.
“Grace, your mother left something behind.”
“What?”
“A small savings account.”
I remembered Mom’s funeral.
Dad had told us there was nothing left be like.
He said the hospital bills had taken everything.
The house.
The car.
The savings.
Everything.
“You’re telling me Mom left money?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Nearly eighty thousand dollars.”
I couldn’t breathe.
“Eighty thousand?”
Aunt Meredith nodded.
“Your mother created the account years before she died. She named you as the beneficiary.”
My mind raced.
“Then why didn’t I know?”
“Because your father never told you.”
I stared at the ceiling.
For years I’d believed we were struggling because Mom’s death had destroyed the family financially.
I’d worked weekends.
I’d skipped university.
I’d paid bills.
I’d even borrowed money for groceries.
All while my father knew there was an account in my name.
“Where is it?”
Aunt Meredith looked at me.
“That’s the problem.”
“What problem?”
“The money disappeared.”
I felt cold.
“When?”
“Six months ago.”
“Who withdrew it?”
She didn’t answer.
She didn’t have to.
I already knew.
My father.
