Chapter 5: The Woman Who Married My Father
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
My father picked up the photograph with both hands.
Brittany stood near the doorway, pale and trembling. The shopping bags remained scattered around the living room, their bright ribbons looking strangely cheerful against the tension.
Dad examined the photograph.
"Who is this man?""
Margaret adjusted her glasses.
"His name is Daniel Price. He worked as a financial adviser for one of the firms that managed Eleanor's investments.""
Dad looked at Brittany.
"You knew him?""
She swallowed.
"Not well.""
Margaret placed another document on the table.
"That's not what his statement says.""
Brittany turned sharply.
"What statement?""
"Mr. Price contacted our office two years ago after discovering irregularities in several investment accounts. He was concerned that confidential information about Eleanor's estate had been shared with someone outside the firm.""
Dad's jaw tightened.
"Who?""
Margaret didn't answer immediately.
Instead, she placed the photograph beside the trust agreement.
"Brittany was one of the people he identified.""
Dad stared at his wife.
"Before we met?""
She shook her head.
"That's not how it happened.""
"Then tell me how it happened.""
Brittany looked around the room as if searching for an ally.
Tyler and Madison had been sent upstairs earlier. I could hear Madison moving around in her bedroom, but Tyler's room remained quiet.
Finally, Brittany sat down.
"I met Daniel through a friend. He told me Eleanor's family had money. He said there might be opportunities to work with people connected to her estate.""
"Work with them how?""
"I don't know. Business introductions. Investments. Things like that.""
Margaret folded her hands.
"Did you receive confidential information about Eleanor's trust?""
Brittany stared at the table.
"Yes.""
Dad took a slow breath.
"What information?""
"That she had established a trust for Jasmine.""
"And what did you do with it?""
"Nothing at first.""
"At first?""
Brittany's face crumpled.
"I was struggling financially. My previous relationship had ended badly. I was raising Tyler and Madison on my own, and I was behind on rent.""
Dad looked stunned.
"You told me you left your previous relationship because your partner was abusive.""
"He was cruel. That part was true.""
"And the money problems?""
"Those were true, too.""
"Did you approach me because of Jasmine's inheritance?""
Brittany wiped her cheeks.
"I didn't know you would become so important to me.""
Dad closed his eyes.
"That wasn't my question.""
She looked up.
"Yes.""
The word was barely audible.
I felt Dad's hand find mine.
He held it tightly.
Brittany continued speaking, as though she knew that if she stopped, she'd never find the courage to continue.
"Daniel told me that you were a widower. He said you were lonely, successful, and raising a little girl. He thought I might be able to help you with the transition.""
Dad stared at her.
"Daniel introduced you to me?""
"Not directly. He arranged for us to meet at the foundation gala.""
"Why?""
"Because he thought you'd be receptive to someone who understood your situation.""
Dad laughed once, without humor.
"So my grief was part of the plan.""
"I didn't expect to fall in love with you.""
"But you expected to marry me.""
Brittany looked down.
"At first, yes.""
The honesty was worse than another lie.
I watched my father struggle to process what he was hearing.
He had spent two years defending Brittany. He'd explained her behavior to me, asked me to be patient, and insisted that our family needed time to adjust.
Now he was learning that the relationship he'd trusted had begun with information about my inheritance.
Margaret opened her folder again.
"There's an important distinction here. We have evidence that confidential information was shared, but we still need to establish whether that information was used to obtain financial benefits.""
Dad looked at her.
"Three hundred thousand dollars has been transferred out of Jasmine's trust.""
"Yes. And the records indicate that at least part of that money went to accounts associated with Brittany.""
Brittany jumped to her feet.
"I never stole three hundred thousand dollars!""
Dad looked at her.
"Then where is it?""
"Some went toward household expenses. Some went toward the renovations. Some went toward paying off debts.""
"Whose debts?""
She hesitated.
"Mine.""
Dad's expression became unreadable.
"You used Jasmine's money to pay your debts?""
"I intended to repay it!""
"With what?""
"I was going to find a way.""
"You had eighteen months.""
Brittany started crying again.
"I thought if I could get everything under control, no one would ever know.""
Margaret closed the folder.
"That is precisely why the trust's independent review provision exists.""
Dad turned to her.
"What happens now?""
"We notify the trustee, freeze any unauthorized transfers, and conduct a complete accounting. If the evidence supports it, the trustee can pursue recovery of the funds. Any allegations of forgery or fraud would need to be assessed separately by the appropriate authorities.""
Brittany looked at Dad in horror.
"You'd let them prosecute me?""
Dad didn't answer.
She moved closer to him.
"Nathan, please. Think about Tyler and Madison.""
"I am thinking about them.""
"Then don't destroy their family!""
He looked at her for a long moment.
"What about Jasmine's family? What about the child you dragged out of her own home?""
Brittany flinched.
"I was angry.""
"You slapped her hand away from a gift she hadn't even touched.""
"I shouldn't have done that.""
"You told her she wasn't your daughter.""
"I was upset.""
"You told her to get out.""
Brittany covered her face.
Dad's voice broke.
"And I wasn't here to stop you.""
For a moment, his anger gave way to something more painful.
Regret.
He turned to me.
"Jasmine, I'm sorry.""
I looked up at him.
"I know, Dad.""
"No. I need you to understand that none of this is your fault. Not the money, not the marriage, not anything that happened today.""
I nodded, but I couldn't stop thinking about the little silver box.
It had seemed so important only a few hours earlier.
Now I wished I'd never seen it.
Margaret closed her briefcase.
"Nathan, I recommend that Jasmine stay somewhere she feels safe while we secure the records and arrange a proper review.""
Dad nodded.
"She'll stay with me.""
Brittany's head snapped up.
"What about me?""
Dad looked at her.
"You need to arrange somewhere else to stay tonight.""
She stared at him.
"You're kicking me out?""
"I'm asking you to leave voluntarily while we sort this out.""
"This is my house!""
"It's my house, Brittany. And Jasmine lives here.""
She shook her head in disbelief.
"You can't do this.""
"I can make decisions about who stays in my home. The legal issues will be handled separately.""
Brittany turned toward me.
For a moment, I thought she might apologize.
Instead, she said, "You must be very happy now.""
Dad stepped between us.
"Don't.""
Brittany laughed bitterly.
"Look at her. She's got exactly what she wanted. Her father, her money, her perfect little world.""
I stared at her.
"I didn't want your money.""
She scoffed.
"Of course you did.""
"I wanted you to like me.""
The words came out before I could stop them.
Brittany went still.
I continued, my voice shaking.
"I wanted you to come to my school plays. I wanted you to ask me about my day. I wanted you to let me call you Mom without getting angry.""
My eyes burned.
"I didn't care about the gifts. I just wanted you to stop acting like I was something you had to put up with.""
For the first time, Brittany had no answer.
She looked away.
Dad knelt beside me and wrapped an arm around my shoulders.
Margaret quietly gathered the documents.
Then she paused.
"There is one final matter we should discuss.""
Dad looked up.
"What?""
"The original trust contains a clause concerning Jasmine's education and living expenses. Eleanor wanted to ensure that the money could never be used as leverage against her.""
Dad frowned.
"What does that mean?""
Margaret took out another page.
"It means that, regardless of any dispute involving the marriage, Jasmine's education and basic living expenses must remain protected. The trustee can arrange direct payments to schools and approved providers without requiring either parent to handle the funds.""
Dad nodded.
"Good.""
Margaret looked at Brittany.
"And it means no one can threaten Jasmine with the loss of her home or education to force her to give up her inheritance.""
Brittany's face went pale again.
"I never threatened her inheritance.""
Margaret's gaze remained steady.
"You told her she didn't deserve anything. You physically removed her from the house. Given the financial circumstances, those actions will need to be documented.""
Brittany sank into the chair.
For a long time, she stared at the floor.
Then she whispered, "I didn't think it would go this far.""
Dad stood.
"That is the problem. You didn't think about Jasmine at all.""
He helped me upstairs while Margaret remained in the living room to discuss the next steps.
At my bedroom door, I stopped.
"Dad?""
"Yes, sweetheart?""
"Do you still love Brittany?""
He took a long time to answer.
"I loved the person I believed she was.""
"Is that different?""
"Sometimes, people show you who they are only after you've trusted them.""
I thought about that.
"Does that mean you won't ever love anyone else?""
Dad knelt beside me.
"It means that if I ever love someone again, I'll make sure that love never comes at the expense of protecting you.""
I hugged him.
He held me until my breathing settled.
Later that evening, Brittany packed a suitcase.
I watched from my bedroom window as she carried it to her car. She had removed her makeup, and her hair hung loosely around her face.
For a moment, she looked less like the glamorous woman who had entered our house with shopping bags and more like someone who had lost control of a situation she thought she understood.
She glanced up at my window.
I stepped back.
I didn't want her to see me.
A few minutes later, her car disappeared down the street.
Dad came into my room carrying a plate of toast and a glass of milk.
"She'll be staying with her sister for now," he said.
"Will Tyler and Madison go with her?""
"They're going with her tonight. We'll make sure they're safe, too.""
I nodded.
I felt sorry for them. They hadn't chosen any of this.
Dad sat on the edge of my bed.
"Tomorrow, Margaret will help us start putting everything right.""
"Will the money come back?""
"We'll do everything we can to recover it.""
"What if it doesn't?""
He took my hand.
"Then we'll deal with that together. Your future is more than a number in a bank account.""
I leaned against him.
For the first time all day, the house felt quiet in a way that didn't frighten me.
Then Dad's phone rang.
He checked the screen and frowned.
"Margaret?""
He answered.
I couldn't hear her clearly, but I saw his expression change as he listened.
"You're sure?"" he asked.
A pause.
"How much?""
Another pause.
Dad stood.
"No. That can't be right.""
He walked toward the window.
"Check the original authorization again.""
I sat upright.
"Dad?""
He held up a finger, asking me to wait.
Then he listened for several more seconds before ending the call.
When he turned around, he looked as if the floor had disappeared beneath him.
"What happened?"" I asked.
He sat beside me.
"Margaret found another account.""
"Another account?""
He nodded.
"An account connected to the original trust.""
"Is the money there?""
"Some of it.""
I waited.
Dad looked at the floor.
"The records suggest that your mother transferred a portion of the inheritance into an account that was supposed to remain untouched until your eighteenth birthday.""
"How much?""
He swallowed.
"Almost one million dollars.""
My heart began pounding.
"Did Brittany take that, too?""
"No. That's the strange part.""
He looked at me.
"Your mother established the account before she died. But the records show that someone accessed it only three months ago.""
"Who?""
Dad's phone buzzed again.
A message from Margaret appeared on the screen.
He read it, and his face turned white.
Then he looked at me and whispered, "Jasmine, the account wasn't accessed by Brittany.""
He turned the phone toward me.
There was a scanned authorization form attached to the message.
At the bottom was a signature.
Nathan Carter.
My father's signature.
And beside it, a date from three months earlier.
Dad stared at the screen.
"I never signed this.""
For the first time, I understood that Brittany might not have been the only person hiding something.
Someone had used my father's name to reach the money my mother had protected.
Someone who knew about the trust.
Someone who knew exactly when to act.
And whoever it was had left a message in the account's records.
Margaret had highlighted it in red.
The final beneficiary instruction remains active. Contact the original witness before notifying Nathan Carter.
Dad read the sentence twice.
May you like
Then he whispered a name I hadn't heard in years.
"Daniel Price.""
