Chapter 3 - The Voice From The Past
"Charlotte..."
The voice came through the speakers.
One word.
My name.
But it was enough to make my entire body freeze.
I knew that voice.
I knew it before my mind even accepted it.
Because there are some voices you never truly forget.
Not even after years.
Not even after people tell you that person is gone.
Not even after you force yourself to believe they will never come back.
My fingers slowly loosened around the edge of the table.
The backyard disappeared.
The relatives disappeared.
The flowers, the decorations, the perfect family image my parents had spent years creating — all of it blurred.
There was only that voice.
The voice of someone I had cried over for ten years.
Someone I had been told was no longer part of my life.
"Charlotte, if you are watching this..."
The video paused for a second.
Static filled the speakers.
Everyone held their breath.
Then the voice continued.
"...it means they finally failed to keep this from you."
My heart dropped.
I looked at my mother.
She looked like she had stopped breathing.
My father sat completely still.
Even Vanessa, who usually had an answer for everything, looked terrified.
"Who is that?" she whispered.
Nobody responded.
I couldn't move.
Because I already knew.
I just didn't want to say it.
Adrien looked at me carefully.
He knew this moment would hurt.
But he also knew I deserved the truth.
The video continued.
The screen showed a woman sitting in a small room.
The quality was old.
The lighting was poor.
But I could see her face.
And my knees almost gave out.
"No..."
The word escaped my mouth.
Quietly.
Almost like a prayer.
Because the woman on the screen was someone I had spent ten years believing had abandoned me.
My aunt.
Lillian.
My mother's younger sister.
The woman who disappeared from our family when I was eighteen.
The woman everyone told me had left because she wanted a new life.
The woman who used to braid my hair when I was little.
The woman who was the only person in my family who ever told me I was enough.
I remembered the night she disappeared.
I remembered standing at the front door.
I remembered my mother telling me:
"Lillian made her choice."
I remembered asking:
"Did I do something wrong?"
And my mother answering:
"Don't make this about you, Charlotte."
That sentence stayed with me for years.
But now Lillian was on the screen.
And she was looking directly into the camera.
Directly at me.
"Charlotte, I need you to listen carefully."
Her voice shook.
Not from fear.
From pain.
"Everything your parents told you about what happened ten years ago was a lie."
The backyard became completely silent.
My mother suddenly moved toward the laptop.
Adrien stepped between them.
"Don't."
My father stood.
"This needs to stop."
Adrien turned.
"No. It needed to stop ten years ago."
The anger in his voice was controlled.
But everyone felt it.
My father looked at me.
"Charlotte, you don't know what you're watching."
I looked at him.
And for the first time in my life, I didn't recognize him.
Not because he looked different.
Because I finally saw him clearly.
"Then tell me."
My voice was quiet.
"Tell me why she is saying you lied."
My father looked away.
That was his answer.
The video continued.
Lillian leaned closer to the camera.
"I found documents that proved Richard and Coral had been moving money through a company under Charlotte's name."
My breath stopped.
The same thing Adrien had shown me.
But hearing it from her made it real.
"They didn't want Charlotte to know because she was the only person who could expose what they were doing."
My mother shook her head.
"No."
It was barely a whisper.
"No, she doesn't understand."
I turned toward her.
"Then explain."
Again.
Silence.
I hated that silence.
Because silence was no longer protecting them.
It was revealing them.
On the screen, Lillian continued.
"Charlotte, I tried to tell you."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"But your parents made sure you would never hear me."
My stomach tightened.
Because I remembered.
There was one night.
One night I had forgotten about.
A night when someone called the house.
A night when my mother took the phone away from me.
A night when she said:
"It was a wrong number."
I was eighteen.
I believed her.
I believed everything.
Because children believe the people who are supposed to protect them.
The video showed Lillian placing a folder on the table.
"I kept copies."
She touched the folder.
"Every signature."
"Every transfer."
"Every conversation."
Then she looked directly into the camera.
"But there is one thing Charlotte doesn't know."
The screen flickered.
Everyone leaned forward.
Even my mother.
Lillian's expression changed.
She looked afraid.
Not nervous.
Afraid.
"Charlotte..."
The video paused.
Then continued.
"The reason your parents needed your name wasn't because of money."
A cold feeling moved through my body.
"Then why?" I whispered.
Nobody answered.
Lillian looked down.
Then back at the camera.
"Because ten years ago, Charlotte was supposed to inherit something."
My eyebrows pulled together.
"Inherit what?"
Adrien looked at the screen.
He already knew there was more.
My parents looked like they wanted to disappear.
Lillian continued.
"Something that was never meant to belong to them."
The video stopped.
The screen went black.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Vanessa laughed.
A small, nervous laugh.
"This is insane."
She looked around.
"Seriously? We're believing some old video now?"
Nobody answered.
Her smile faded.
Because she realized nobody was laughing with her.
Vanessa turned toward my mother.
"Mom?"
Nothing.
"Mom, say something."
My mother looked at me.
Not Vanessa.
Me.
And somehow that hurt more.
Because I saw something in her eyes.
Regret.
Not enough to erase what happened.
But enough to tell me she knew exactly what she had done.
I stepped back.
"Who was I supposed to inherit from?"
My mother closed her eyes.
"Charlotte..."
"No."
My voice became stronger.
"I want the answer."
The relatives around us slowly started leaving.
Not because they didn't care.
Because they knew they were witnessing something they were never supposed to see.
Adrien stood beside me.
Not in front of me.
Not speaking for me.
Just beside me.
Like he always should have been.
My father finally spoke.
"It wasn't supposed to happen like this."
I looked at him.
"What does that mean?"
He ran a hand over his face.
"You were never supposed to find out this way."
That sentence made my blood run cold.
Because it meant there was another way.
Another version of my life.
Another truth they had hidden.
Adrien looked at him.
"What happened ten years ago?"
My father didn't answer.
He walked toward the house.
"Where are you going?"
Nobody stopped him.
He kept walking.
My mother followed.
"Richard."
He ignored her.
I watched them disappear through the back door.
Then I looked at Adrien.
"What are they hiding?"
He didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he opened the envelope again.
There was one final item inside.
A small photograph.
Old.
Folded.
He handed it to me.
I looked down.
The picture showed me.
But not the way I remembered myself.
I was eighteen.
Standing beside Lillian.
And beside us was another person.
Someone I had completely forgotten.
Someone who was supposed to be impossible.
My fingers started shaking.
Because on the back of the photograph, there was a message written in black ink.
Three words.
"She is alive."
I looked at Adrien.
"What does this mean?"
Before he could answer, my phone vibrated.
One new message.
From an unknown number.
I opened it.
There was only one sentence.
"Charlotte, if Adrien showed you the photo, you need to leave before your father finds you."
I looked up.
May you like
Because at that exact moment...
The back door of my parents' house slowly opened.
