Chapter 11 - The Letter in the PianoAlyssa played piano badly.
Daniel used to tease her about it.
She knew only four songs.
Yet whenever she was anxious, she sat at the black Steinway in the library and played the same melody until she calmed down.
Three weeks after the pool incident, Daniel returned to the mansion with police permission to collect personal belongings.
Evelyn was temporarily staying elsewhere.
Cooper came with him.
Daniel passed the piano.
Cooper stopped.
He sniffed beneath it.
Daniel smiled sadly.
“Alyssa used to drop crackers under there.”
Cooper pushed his nose against the pedal panel.
Something moved.
Daniel crouched.
A thin envelope had been taped beneath the underside of the piano.
His name was written across it.
DANIEL.
His hands began trembling.
He called Rebecca before opening it.
She arrived thirty minutes later.
Inside were nine handwritten pages.
The first line nearly broke him.
Daniel,
If you are reading this, I either lost my nerve or ran out of time.
Alyssa had written the letter during her illness.
Not about her illness.
About Evelyn.
She described years of unexplained foundation expenses.
She described Leonard.
She described pressure to approve a sale of Carter Urban Development assets.
She described her mother’s rage when she refused.
Then came the passage Daniel had never imagined.
Mom believes love means ownership.
When I disagree with her, she calls it betrayal.
When I chose you, she said you were stealing me.
When Mia was born, she began talking about “our second chance.” I thought she meant healing. I now think she meant control.
Daniel stopped reading.
Rebecca waited.
He continued.
Alyssa had feared that after her death, Evelyn would try to use grief against Daniel.
Not necessarily physically.
Emotionally.
Financially.
Legally.
She had added the independent audit clause to Mia’s trust because she did not trust Evelyn around company transactions.
Then the letter became more personal.
If she ever tries to convince you that you are a bad father simply because you are grieving, remember this: Mia does not need a perfect father. She needs the father who gets back up.
Daniel pressed the paper to his mouth.
Rebecca looked away to give him privacy.
At the bottom of the final page was another note.
There is a duplicate set of the Haven Ridge records outside the house. Rebecca does not have them. Mom does not know where they are.
Daniel looked up.
“Outside the house?”
Rebecca frowned.
“I have no idea.”
The next sentence provided a clue.
Ask Grace where my father taught me to hide birthday presents.
Daniel called Grace.
She answered immediately.
“Where did Marcus hide Alyssa’s birthday presents?”
Grace laughed.
“What?”
“Please.”
Her laughter stopped.
“The greenhouse.”
Daniel stood.
“What part?”
“The old potting bench.”
Daniel and Rebecca walked across the property.
The greenhouse had not been used seriously since Marcus died.
Beneath the potting bench, they found a rusted metal compartment.
Inside was a waterproof document pouch.
Bank records.
Board minutes.
Invoices.
Emails.
A flash drive.
And a photograph.
Daniel stared at it.
Evelyn and Leonard stood together outside a bank.
On the back, Alyssa had written:
They think I don’t know.
Rebecca examined the records.
“This could prove the foundation fraud.”
Daniel looked at Alyssa’s handwriting.
Then another thought struck him.
“If Evelyn knew Alyssa was investigating…”
Rebecca understood.
“The pool incident may not have been her first attempt to protect this secret.”
Daniel’s eyes hardened.
“What happened between Evelyn and Alyssa before she got sick?”
Neither of them had the answer.
May you like
But Grace did.
And she had been afraid to tell Daniel for almost a year.
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