Chapter 3 - Why They Sent Me Away
Mother said Blue Harbor was a childhood counseling service.
Rebecca said nothing.
That frightened me more.
“Was I a patient?”
“No,” Mother replied quickly.
“Then why was a company being paid in my name?”
Father turned toward Rebecca.
“This has nothing to do with the estate.”
Rebecca answered:
“Margaret believed it had everything to do with it.”
The ledger showed annual payments until my eighteenth birthday.
Not from my parents’ personal account.
From a trust established by Grandma.
A trust I had never known existed.
Camille stared at me.
“You had a trust?”
Apparently.
Grandma created it shortly after I was born.
But when I was seven, its beneficiary information changed.
Rebecca had only recently recovered the original documents.
“Changed to whom?”
She looked at Camille.
My sister’s wineglass stopped halfway to her mouth.
“No.”
Mother stood between us.
“This is ridiculous.”
Rebecca placed the amendment down.
The trust intended for Naomi Mercer had been redirected to Camille Mercer.
For years, distributions funded Camille’s private schools, travel, apartment and lifestyle.
Camille began crying.
“I didn’t know.”
For once, I believed her.
Father didn’t.
“You benefited from it.”
“I WAS A CHILD!”
Their voices rose.
I barely heard them.
My childhood had suddenly become accounting evidence.
Grandma’s lunch notes.
My blue suitcase.
Mother saying I needed a calmer environment.
Was Maine protection—or exile?
Rebecca gave me Grandma’s letter.
I continued reading.
Naomi, they did not send you away because you were difficult. Daniel discovered something when you were seven. Eleanor panicked. Richard agreed that distance was safer than questions.
Daniel.
Again.
The attorney in Mother’s photograph.
The man who notarized Grandma’s impossible signature.
The man who still advised my father.
“What did Daniel discover?”
Rebecca shook her head.
“Margaret never told me.”
Mother whispered:
“Please stop.”
I turned toward her.
“You called my graduation a failure’s ceremony.”
She closed her eyes.
“You left me with Grandma for eleven years.”
“I know.”
“You erased me from family photographs.”
“I know.”
“Now you want me to stop because this is uncomfortable?”
Her face collapsed.
“I was trying to protect you.”
I laughed.
“From what?”
She looked toward Father.
He stared back coldly.
Something passed between them.
Fear.
Not guilt.
Fear.
Then a car entered the driveway.
Father looked through the terrace windows.
His face changed.
Daniel Sloane stepped from a black sedan.
He had represented my family for decades.
He walked onto the terrace smiling politely.
Then he saw Rebecca.
The smile vanished.
Rebecca stood.
“Interesting timing.”
Daniel ignored her.
He looked directly at me.
“Naomi, do not sign anything.”
Father exploded.
“You drafted the documents!”
Daniel’s face remained fixed on mine.
“I drafted what Richard gave me.”
Then he looked at Mother.
“And Eleanor still hasn’t told Naomi why she was sent away.”
Mother whispered:
“Daniel…”
He reached into his coat.
“What are you doing?” Father demanded.
May you like
Daniel placed a sealed DNA report on the table.
My name was printed across the front.
