PART 5
Now I understood why.
Harrison had discovered the truth only months before he asked me to marry him.
His youngest daughter was Daniel’s child.
And Harrison’s other two children had known.
They had known for years.
They had hidden it.
Not because they were protecting Harrison.
Because they were protecting the inheritance.
I finally understood the hostility at the funeral.
They weren’t angry because I had married their father.
They were terrified of what I might discover.
The lawyer opened another document.
“This is Harrison’s final will.”
I stared at him.
“I thought his children inherited everything.”
“They don’t.”
He slid the document across the table.
Harrison had divided his estate into four portions.
One for me.
One for Clara.
One for a charity.
And the final portion was placed into a trust.
Nothing went directly to his children.
I felt tears fill my eyes.
“Why?”
The lawyer smiled sadly.
“Because Harrison didn’t want his money to become another weapon.”
I thought of all those afternoons beneath the oak tree.
All the times Harrison had told me his children were waiting for him to die.
Maybe I had misunderstood.
He hadn’t been afraid they would take his money.
He had been afraid they would use it to control the people around him.
Then I noticed something.
There was one final page.
It wasn’t part of the will.
It was a handwritten note.
I recognized Harrison’s handwriting immediately.
Margaret,
If you’ve reached this page, you’ve probably discovered everything about Eleanor.
But there is one thing I still haven’t told you.
I read on.
I didn’t ask you to marry me because I was afraid of my children.
That was only part of the truth.
I asked because Clara told me something about you.
I froze.
What could Clara possibly have told him?
The next sentence answered it.
She told me that you were the woman who saved Eleanor’s life sixty years ago.
I stared at the page.
That was impossible.
I hadn’t known Eleanor.
I was eighteen years old sixty years ago.
I had never met Harrison.
Never met Clara.
Never met anyone in their family.
I read the sentence again.
Then I noticed another photograph attached to the letter.
It showed a much younger version of me.
I knew that face.
It was me.
But I had absolutely no memory of the event in the picture.
The photograph showed me standing outside a small roadside diner.
Beside me was a frightened young woman.
Eleanor.
I felt dizzy.
“How is that possible?”
The lawyer’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because Eleanor didn’t die in the accident.”
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