“Why didn’t he ever tell me the scale of it?” I asked, my voice barely a whisper as I looked at the legal documents.
Simon explained that Arthur had tried to bring it up many times, but I had always brushed him off by saying I trusted him to handle the bills. My husband was also terrified of Felicia, whom he described as a predator who would strip Derek of everything if she knew the truth.
I remembered the way Felicia looked at our house during her first visit, asking if the mortgage was paid off before she even tasted the dinner I cooked. Arthur had noticed her greed immediately, and he spent his final years building a fortress to protect me from her.
He had even purchased a high-rise residence in the city as a surprise for our anniversary, a place where we could finally retire in luxury. He died before he could show it to me, leaving the keys in a safety deposit box at the downtown bank.
Everything Arthur owned was tucked away in an irrevocable trust with me as the sole beneficiary, making it impossible for Derek or Felicia to touch. Simon assured me that the papers I signed at the house were legally irrelevant because the property was already protected.
I spent an hour in the bank vault later that day, surrounded by steel walls as I opened the box that held my husband’s final messages. There were folders of deeds and bank statements, but the most precious item was a bundle of letters tied with a blue ribbon.
I opened the first one and sobbed as I read Arthur’s apology for keeping the secret, explaining that he wanted to protect the simple life we loved. He wrote that he wanted me to have total freedom and urged me not to let the children bully me into submission.
There was a letter for nearly every year of our marriage, documenting his thoughts while I slept or while he traveled for work. I walked out of that bank feeling a cold, hard resolve settle in my chest as I realized the battle was only just beginning.
I chose to stay at the roadside inn for a few more weeks because the grit of the place kept me grounded while I planned my next move. I followed a strict routine, eating breakfast at the diner next door and reading Arthur’s letters under the dim light of my room.
Felicia began calling me during the second week, her tone sharp as she demanded I hand over my mother’s jewelry. She told me the emeralds belonged to the family, to which I replied that they were currently on my finger before I hung up the phone.
Derek sent a few messages asking if I was okay, but he followed them up with questions about insurance paperwork Felicia wanted to find. I ignored them both, focusing instead on the strategy Simon was helping me build from his office on Pearl Street.
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