CHAPTER 8 The Secret Her Mother Took to the Grave
CHAPTER 8 The Secret Her Mother Took to the Grave
The call ended.
But the stranger’s words remained.
Emily sat motionless on the hospital bed, staring at the dark screen of her phone.
Someone who knows why your mother really died.
Those words repeated inside her mind.
Again.
And again.
For years, Emily had accepted the story she was given.
Her mother had become sick.
Her condition had worsened quickly.
The doctors had tried everything.
And in the end, she was gone.
A tragedy.
A painful chapter.
But a simple one.
That was what everyone told her.
Now, for the first time, Emily wondered if the story had never been simple.
Claire returned to the room carrying coffee.
She immediately noticed something was wrong.
Emily was too quiet.
Not peaceful.
Different.
“What happened?”
Emily looked up.
“Someone called me.”
Claire placed the coffee down.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did they say?”
Emily hesitated.
Then answered.
“They said they know why my mother really died.”
Claire froze.
The room became silent.
“Emily…”
“I know.”
“That’s impossible.”
Emily looked at her.
“Is it?”
Claire had no answer.
Because after everything that happened, impossible no longer felt impossible.
The door opened.
Raymond entered.
He immediately noticed the tension.
“What happened?”
Emily looked at him.
“Did you know my mother’s death might not have been what everyone told me?”
Raymond stopped.
Only for a second.
But Emily saw it.
That hesitation.
The same hesitation from earlier.
Her heart sank.
“You knew something.”
Raymond slowly closed the door.
“Emily.”
“No.”
Her voice became firmer.
“Please don’t protect me anymore.”
Raymond looked at her.
“I’m not trying to.”
“Then tell me the truth.”
A long silence followed.
Finally, Raymond sat down.
“Your mother was investigating something before she died.”
Emily’s expression changed.
“Investigating what?”
“The hospital finances.”
Emily looked confused.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“But she wasn’t involved in hospital management.”
Raymond nodded.
“She wasn’t.”
“Then why?”
“Because she discovered people were using the hospital name for personal gain.”
Emily felt a chill.
“Who?”
Raymond looked away.
“At first, we thought it was only a few executives.”
“And then?”
“Then your mother found something bigger.”
Emily leaned forward.
“What?”
Raymond took a deep breath.
“She discovered that someone had been secretly moving ownership rights.”
The words hit Emily.
“Ownership?”
“Yes.”
“Someone was trying to take control of the hospital.”
Emily looked toward the window.
“And my mother stopped them.”
Raymond nodded.
“She tried.”
A painful silence filled the room.
“What does that mean?”
Raymond’s expression became heavy.
“It means she knew she was in danger.”
Emily looked at him.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me?”
“Because you were young.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Raymond looked down.
“The truth is…”
He paused.
“Your mother asked me not to tell you.”
Emily’s eyes widened.
“She knew?”
“Yes.”
“She knew people were after her?”
“Yes.”
“And she still kept me away?”
Raymond nodded.
“She wanted you to have a normal life.”
Emily laughed quietly.
But there was no happiness in it.
“A normal life.”
She repeated.
“Marrying a man who lied to me.”
“Trusting people who used me.”
“Living in a world where everyone knew the truth except me.”
Raymond looked hurt.
“I’m sorry.”
Emily wiped her eyes.
But she refused to cry.
Not because she wasn’t hurt.
Because she had cried enough years ago.
Now she needed answers.
“Who was trying to take control?”
Raymond hesitated.
Emily noticed.
“Uncle.”
He looked at her.
“Who?”
Before he could answer, the door opened.
A hospital security officer entered.
“Mr. Saint Claire.”
Raymond stood.
“What happened?”
The officer looked nervous.
“We found someone accessing the old archive room.”
Raymond’s expression changed.
“The restricted archive?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Ten minutes ago.”
Emily immediately stood.
“Why does that matter?”
Raymond looked at her.
“Because that room contains documents from before the hospital merger.”
“And?”
“And only five people have authorization.”
Emily’s eyes narrowed.
“Who?”
The officer handed Raymond a report.
Raymond read the names.
Then his face became serious.
Emily noticed.
“Who is it?”
Raymond slowly looked up.
“Preston.”
The room went silent.
Emily shook her head.
“No.”
The officer continued.
“There’s more.”
Raymond looked back at the paper.
“The access was approved using another person’s security credentials.”
Emily’s stomach tightened.
“Whose?”
Raymond didn’t answer immediately.
That was enough.
She already knew it was serious.
Finally, Raymond spoke.
“Your credentials.”
Emily froze.
“My credentials?”
“Yes.”
“That’s impossible.”
Raymond looked at her.
“Exactly.”
Someone had entered the archive room.
Someone had used Emily’s identity.
Someone was trying to make it appear that she was involved.
Claire whispered.
“They’re setting you up.”
Emily stared at the report.
For years, she had been treated like someone who didn’t understand power.
Someone harmless.
Someone easy to manipulate.
But now someone was afraid.
Afraid because she was getting closer.
Emily looked at Raymond.
“What is in that archive?”
Raymond’s expression became darker.
“The original documents.”
“About my mother?”
“Yes.”
“About the hospital?”
“Yes.”
“About Preston?”
Raymond was silent.
That silence was the answer.
Emily walked toward the door.
Claire immediately stood.
“Where are you going?”
Emily looked back.
“To the archive room.”
Raymond shook his head.
“No.”
Emily stopped.
“Why?”
“Because whoever did this wants you to go there.”
She looked at him.
“And?”
“And they may have prepared something.”
Emily took a slow breath.
Then she answered.
“For years, people have been deciding what I should know.”
“What I should believe.”
“What I should do.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“I’m done letting other people write my story.”
Raymond watched her carefully.
Because in that moment, he saw something familiar.
Not Preston.
Not the Whitmore family.
Emily’s mother.
The same determination.
The same courage.
The same refusal to surrender.
Together, they walked toward the restricted archive.
But none of them noticed the figure standing at the end of the hallway.
Watching.
Waiting.
Holding a phone.
The person typed one message.
She found the archive.
May you like
A reply appeared seconds later.
Then make sure she never leaves with the truth.
