PART 2 — THE NAME I DIDN’T KNOW
I spent the entire night going over the last few months of my marriage.
Every message.
Every conversation.
Every seemingly insignificant moment.
And the longer I thought about it, the clearer it became that Lucas had not decided to betray me that morning.
He had been preparing it for months.
Maybe even years.
The next morning, my father Robert and I went to the courthouse to obtain a certified copy of the property deed.
The man behind the counter took my documents and typed my name into the computer.
A few minutes later, he printed several pages.
“Here is the complete file.”
I took the papers.
My hands were shaking.
The transfer had indeed been registered three weeks earlier.
But then my father noticed something.
“Sophie.”
I looked at him.
He pointed to a line.
“It says here that you personally appeared before the notary.”
I nodded.
“But I didn’t.”
“I know.”
The problem was even bigger.
According to the file, the signing had taken place at ten in the morning.
I was working at that time.
Every day.
I worked at the bakery from eleven at night until seven in the morning.
My father looked at me.
“Can your employer confirm that?”
“Of course.”
We drove straight to the bakery.
My boss, Linda, was just taking the first trays out of the oven.
When I told her what had happened, her expression became serious.
“Sophie, of course I can confirm that you were working that day.”
She opened the work schedule.
Then she pointed toward the security cameras.
“The cameras keep the recordings for thirty days.”
For the first time in hours, I felt a small glimmer of hope.
If the camera proved that I had been at the bakery, then the signature could not have been mine.
But before we left, Linda suddenly said:
“There’s something else.”
I turned around.
“What?”
She hesitated.
“About two weeks ago, a man came here asking about you.”
My heart began beating faster.
“What kind of man?”
“Mid-forties. Dark hair. Very well-groomed. He said he was your brother.”
I froze.
“I don’t have a brother.”
Linda slowly nodded.
“That’s what I thought. That’s why I didn’t give him any personal information.”
“What was his name?”
She reached for a notebook.
“Nathan Miller.”
The name meant nothing to me.
But the last name sent a chill through me.
Miller.
My last name.
“Did he say why he was looking for me?”
“He said it was a family matter.”
My father and I looked at each other.
On the way out, I received a message from an unknown number.
Stop searching.
Only four words.
Then a second message arrived.
You have no idea who you’ve turned against you.
I showed it to my father.
He immediately wanted to call the police.
But before we could do anything, my phone rang.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A man remained silent for several seconds.
Then he said:
“Sophie.”
I didn’t recognize the voice.
“Who are you?”
“Someone who is trying to warn you.”
“Then tell me your name.”
A pause.
“Nathan.”
My entire body went cold.
“What do you want?”
“Your mother.”
I tightened my grip around the phone.
“What about my mother?”
“She’s in greater danger than you realize.”
“If you hurt my mother—”
He interrupted me.
“I don’t want to hurt her. But other people do.”
Then he hung up.
My father took the phone from my hand.
“We’re going to the hospital. Right now.”
When we arrived, my mother was still lying in bed.
Her blood pressure had gone down slightly.
I sat beside her.
“Mom, I need to ask you something.”
She slowly opened her eyes.
“What?”
“Do you know a man named Nathan Miller?”
Her reaction was immediate.
She turned pale.
Her fingers tightened around the blanket.
“How do you know that name?”
“He asked about you.”
My mother closed her eyes.
My father stood by the window.
“Margaret,” he said quietly. “It’s over. We can’t keep it secret any longer.”
My mother looked at him.
Then at me.
And I saw something on her face that I hadn’t seen since I was a child.
Fear.
“Sophie,” she whispered, “your grandfather left something for you.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“Something your family has been trying to hide for years.”
At that moment, the door opened.
A nurse stepped inside.
“Excuse me. A man was just here asking to see your mother.”
I stood up.
“Who?”
The nurse looked down at her notepad.
“Nathan Miller.”
My mother grabbed my hand.
“Sophie.”
Her voice was trembling.
“You must not trust him.”
Then she looked at my father.
“But you have to listen to him.”
* * *
PART 3 — MY GRANDFATHER’S INHERITANCE
We waited until the nurse had left.
Then my father closed the door.
My mother stared at me for a long time.
“There’s something I should have told you before your eighteenth birthday.”
I sat down.
“What?”
She took a deep breath.
“Your grandfather, Samuel.”
Of course, I knew his name.
Samuel Carter was my mother’s father.
He had died when I was still a child.
To me, he had simply been my grandfather.
A kind, elderly man with large hands and an old leather suitcase.
But apparently, I had never really known him.
“What about him?”
My mother began to tell me.
Samuel had worked in the real estate industry for many years.
He had owned a stake in a large real estate fund.
One day, he noticed irregularities in the accounts.
Money was disappearing.
Not a few thousand dollars.
Millions.
“He discovered that someone was regularly siphoning money from the fund,” my mother said.
“Who?”
She looked at my father.
Robert took over.
“Part of the trail led to a family.”
I knew the answer before he even said it.
“Miller.”
My father nodded.
I felt sick.
“Lucas’s family?”
“Yes.”
I stood up.
“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”
My mother began to cry.
“Because your grandfather was afraid.”
“Afraid of whom?”
“Of them.”
She reached for my hand.
“Samuel wanted to go to the police. But before he could, he received a threat.”
“What kind of threat?”
My father opened his bag.
He took out an old photograph.
It showed my grandfather standing in front of a large office building.
There was a date written on the back.
And beneath it, a sentence.
If you talk, your family loses everything.
I stared at the words.
“Why do you still have this?”
“Because Samuel gave it to me shortly before he died.”
“And why did you hide it?”
My father looked down.
“Because at the time, I didn’t know whom I could trust.”
My mother wiped the tears from her face.
“Your grandfather tried to protect you.”
“Me?”
She nodded.
“He set up a trust.”
I gave a nervous laugh.
“What kind of trust?”
“A trust in your name.”
I thought I had misheard her.
“In my name?”
“Yes.”
My father said quietly:
“From everything we were able to find out, it was supposed to be worth around twelve million dollars.”
I sat down again.
Twelve million.
“That’s impossible.”
“There’s more.”
My mother grabbed my arm.
“Your grandfather owned a large piece of land in Maryland. At the time, it was almost worthless. Today, it’s near a planned development project.”
“How much is it worth?”
My father answered:
“We don’t know exactly.”
My mother looked at me.
“But probably more than a hundred million dollars.”
I couldn’t speak.
Suddenly, Lucas’s words made sense.
The house had never been the real target.
But why did his family want the land?
“Where are the documents?”
My mother looked at me.
And at that moment, we heard a sound outside the hospital room.
Footsteps.
My father opened the door.
Nobody was there.
But when we later drove to my parents’ house, I immediately knew something was wrong.
The front door was unlocked.
Robert stopped.
“I locked it.”
We went inside.
Everything had been ransacked.
Drawers were open.
Cabinets had been emptied.
Papers were scattered across the floor.
Someone had searched the house.
My mother began to tremble.
“The suitcase.”
My father looked at her.
“Which suitcase?”
“Samuel’s old blue suitcase.”
We ran to the bedroom.
The suitcase was still there.
But something was missing.
A thick brown envelope.
It bore my grandfather’s seal.
“What was inside?” I asked.
My mother answered:
“The evidence.”
At that moment, I saw a black car speeding away through the window.
I ran outside.
But the car was already gone.
My father shouted:
“Sophie, come back!”
I stopped.
Because for a brief moment, I had seen the driver.
Nathan.
Or at least, I thought it was him.
* * *
PART 4 — THE MAN WHO KNEW EVERYTHING
The next morning, we met with a lawyer.
His name was Daniel Harper.
He had worked for my grandfather for years.
When he saw the documents concerning the apartment, his expression became serious.
“The property transfer isn’t the only problem.”
I looked at him.
“What do you mean?”
He placed another copy in front of us.
“The witness’s signature is forged as well.”
My father leaned forward.
“Who was the witness?”
“A man named Thomas Reed.”
“Can we speak to him?”
Daniel shook his head.
“I’ve already spoken to him.”
He placed a note on the table.
“He says he has never seen Sophie before.”
I felt cold.
“Then everything was forged.”
“Obviously.”
Daniel leaned back.
“But the bigger problem is the money.”
I already knew what he meant.
“The nine hundred thousand dollars.”
He nodded.
“The money wasn’t simply transferred to Evelyn’s account.”
He slid a bank statement toward me.
“It was first transferred to a company.”
“Which company?”
Daniel gave me the name.
I didn’t recognize it.
But my father did.
His face went pale.
“That company belongs to Evelyn.”
Daniel nodded.
“Officially, it belongs to a trust.”
“And who controls the trust?”
The lawyer looked at me.
“Lucas.”
I closed my eyes.
This hadn’t been an impulsive argument.
It hadn’t been a sudden outburst.
Everything had been planned.
The apartment.
The money.
The documents.
My mother.
My grandfather.
Everything was part of a single plan.
Then my phone vibrated.
A new message.
I opened it.
A photograph.
My mother was lying alone in her hospital bed.
Beneath the photo was a single word.
STOP.
I jumped to my feet.
“We have to go to the hospital immediately.”
But before I could leave, my phone rang.
Evelyn.
I answered.
“What do you want?”
Her voice was calm.
Almost friendly.
“You’re more persistent than I expected.”
“Where is my mother?”
“In the hospital.”
“If you hurt her—”
She laughed softly.
“No one wants to hurt your mother.”
“Then leave her alone.”
“That’s not up to me.”
“What do you want from me?”
Silence.
Then Evelyn said:
“You should listen to Lucas.”
“I’ve been listening to him for ten years.”
“No. You believed him. That’s different.”
I heard another voice in the background.
Lucas.
“Give me the phone.”
Then he said:
“Sophie.”
I could barely breathe.
“Lucas.”
“I want to talk to you about your grandfather.”
“What does my grandfather have to do with you?”
“More than you think.”
“Why did you forge my signature?”
He was silent.
Then he said:
“Because you own something that belongs to me.”
“Belongs to you?”
“You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“No, I don’t.”
His voice became colder.
“Then ask your mother about the safe.”
I froze.
“What safe?”
He hung up.
We rushed to the hospital.
My mother was awake.
I sat beside her.
“Mom, Lucas just mentioned a safe.”
She closed her eyes.
“He found it?”
“Which safe?”
My mother looked at my father.
Then at me.
“Your grandfather’s safe.”
“Where is it?”
She answered...
