Chapter 3 - The Sister Who Didn't Exist
Her name was Natalie.
Mom told me in the bank parking lot.
She had been born three years after me.
And died when she was eleven months old.
I couldn't understand the words.
“I had a sister?”
Mom cried.
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“You were three.”
“That explains then. It doesn't explain the next twenty-seven years.”
Dad looked away.
Chloe knew.
Of course she knew.
I saw it immediately.
“You knew too?”
She nodded.
“When?”
“Mom told me when I was sixteen.”
I laughed once.
It sounded ugly.
“So everyone knew except me.”
“Maya,” Mom whispered.
“Why?”
Mom wiped her face.
“Because you were there.”
My stomach dropped.
“What does that mean?”
Dad immediately said:
“Linda.”
“No,” Mom snapped. “She's opening everything anyway.”
She looked at me.
“The day Natalie died, you were playing in the nursery.”
I felt cold.
“You climbed into her crib.”
“I was three.”
“Yes.”
“You put a blanket over her.”
My breathing stopped.
For one horrible second, the entire world disappeared.
“Are you saying I killed my sister?”
“No.”
Daniel's voice cut through the parking lot.
Firm.
Mom looked at him.
“You were not there.”
“No, but I know the medical findings because Evelyn showed them to me years later.”
I turned toward him.
“What?”
Daniel looked furious.
“Natalie died from an undiagnosed congenital cardiac abnormality.”
Mom's face twisted.
“The blanket—”
“Was not the cause of death.”
Dad closed his eyes.
Daniel continued.
“The coroner explicitly determined that.”
I stared at my mother.
“You let me believe for five seconds that I killed a baby.”
Mom shook her head.
“I didn't mean—”
“You absolutely meant it.”
My voice cracked.
“You wanted me scared enough to stop asking questions.”
“No!”
“Then why didn't you tell me the medical finding first?”
Silence.
There was the answer.
I stepped backward.
Mom reached toward me.
I recoiled.
That hurt her.
Good.
Maybe I wanted it to.
Daniel guided me toward my car.
But before we left, I asked one question.
“Why did Grandma transfer shares to me if they were intended for Natalie?”
Mom answered bitterly.
“Because she blamed me.”
“For what?”
“She believed stress during pregnancy contributed to Natalie's condition.”
Daniel shook his head.
“That is not what Evelyn believed.”
Mom glared.
“Stop speaking for my mother.”
“Then stop rewriting her.”
The hatred between them suddenly made sense.
Daniel knew things.
Things Mom wanted buried.
Back at his office, he showed me another document.
Grandma originally intended portions of her Carter Systems shares for each grandchild.
After Natalie died, her planned share reverted to Grandma.
Years later, Grandma transferred part of that interest to me.
Not because I replaced Natalie.
Because she wanted me protected.
“There is no legal ambiguity,” Daniel said.
“Then why did Mom say there was?”
“Because there may be another document.”
My stomach tightened.
“The one Grandma thought she forged?”
“Possibly.”
We found it two days later.
During Carter Systems' acquisition, Mom submitted a document claiming Grandma had transferred the shares back to her.
Signature notarized.
The acquiring company apparently accepted it.
But Daniel had filed Grandma's earlier transfer separately.
Two conflicting ownership claims.
The discrepancy had been buried during later mergers.
Until now.
A forensic document examiner reviewed the signature.
Preliminary conclusion:
Likely forged.
I sat in Daniel's conference room staring at the report.
“My mother forged Grandma's signature.”
“Possibly.”
“For money.”
“Possibly.”
“How much?”
Daniel had finally completed an initial valuation.
He slid a document toward me.
I looked down.
Then looked again.
My inherited interest, after acquisitions and stock conversions, could be worth between:
$3.8 million and $4.6 million.
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because my mother had thrown me out of the family over $2,500 while potentially hiding millions that legally belonged to me.
“You okay?” Daniel asked.
“No.”
“Good.”
I looked at him.
He smiled slightly.
“People say they're fine too quickly.”
That evening, I received thirty-two messages from relatives.
Apparently Mom had begun telling everyone I was trying to “steal Chloe's inheritance.”
Interesting.
I hadn't even known the inheritance existed three days earlier.
Aunt Patricia called.
I answered.
“Maya, your mother is devastated.”
“Then she should probably stop forging signatures.”
Silence.
“What?”
Apparently Mom had omitted that detail.
I explained.
Not emotionally.
Just facts.
Grandma's trust.
The attempted withdrawals.
The Carter shares.
The forensic examination.
Patricia became very quiet.
Then she said:
“Your grandmother suspected this.”
“What?”
“She asked me once whether Linda had access to her desk.”
My skin prickled.
“When?”
“Near the end.”
“Why didn't you say anything?”
“I thought she was confused.”
There it was again.
Everyone had dismissed Grandma because she was old.
But Grandma had been documenting everything.
Within a week, an attorney representing my parents contacted Daniel.
They wanted settlement discussions.
I refused.
Not because I wanted revenge.
Because I still didn't know the truth.
Then Chloe appeared at my apartment.
I had moved into a furnished rental.
She stood outside crying.
I almost didn't open the door.
Then I did.
“What?”
“Maya, I need help.”
I laughed.
“Of course you do.”
“No. Not money.”
That got my attention.
Chloe looked behind her.
“Mom doesn't know I'm here.”
“Why?”
She pulled out her phone.
“I found something.”
“What?”
“A recording.”
My stomach tightened.
“Of Grandma?”
“No.”
Chloe looked terrified.
“Of Mom and Dad.”
She handed me the phone.
The audio began.
Dad's voice.
“You should have destroyed the original transfer.”
Then Mom:
“I tried. Mercer had a copy.”
Dad:
“If Maya ever finds out, we tell her Evelyn changed her mind.”
Mom:
“And if she doesn't believe us?”
A pause.
Then my father's voice:
“She always believes she's responsible for fixing this family.”
I stopped the recording.
My hands were shaking.
Chloe whispered:
“They knew exactly what they were doing.”
I looked at my little sister.
For the first time, she wasn't crying because she wanted something.
She was crying because the world she had benefited from was finally frightening her too.
Then she said:
“Maya, there's more.”
“How much more?”
Chloe swallowed.
“They didn't just take your shares.”
May you like
She looked me directly in the eyes.
“They emptied mine.”
