“Richard knew.”
That hurt more.
I sat down again.
“Why didn’t I?”
“Because Rebecca did not want Mark involved.”
“Why?”
Miriam hesitated.
“Because of money.”
Of course.
Always money.
According to Richard’s letter, Mark had taken credit cards out in Rebecca’s name during their relationship.
When she discovered them, she ended things.
Then learned she was pregnant.
Mark demanded that she stay.
Rebecca refused.
There were threats.
Arguments.
Eventually she moved away.
Richard discovered the truth years later when Rebecca contacted him.
Mark had never paid support.
Never told us she existed.
Richard had begun sending money privately.
Not to buy access.
To help.
“Where is she?” I whispered.
“Rebecca died four years ago.”
My eyes closed.
“And the child?”
“Her daughter is twenty-six now.”
“Her name is Eleanor?”
Miriam nodded.
“Rebecca gave her Richard’s mother’s middle name. Rose.”
I covered my mouth.
Richard had a granddaughter.
I had a granddaughter.
For twenty-six years.
And I never knew.
Anger rose so violently I had to stand again.
“At Richard?”
“Yes,” Miriam said.
“Good. You should be angry.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“He intended to.”
“When?”
“When he was sure contact wouldn’t harm Eleanor Rose. Rebecca had asked for privacy while she was alive. After Rebecca died, Richard’s health deteriorated quickly.”
I thought of his final months.
Chemotherapy.
Hospitals.
Pain medication.
Days when speaking exhausted him.
“Did he meet her?”
“Once.”
That broke me.
I pictured my dying husband sitting across from a young woman with our granddaughter’s face.
Without me.
Miriam continued softly.
“Eleanor Rose asked him not to disrupt your life while he was sick.”
Tears slid down my cheeks.
“What does she know about me?”
“Everything Richard could tell her.”
“Does she hate me?”
“No.”
“Has she ever wanted to meet me?”
Miriam looked toward the front window.
“Yes.”
A car had pulled into Helen’s driveway.
My heart began pounding.
“Miriam.”
She stood.
“There’s one more part.”
Of course there was.
Richard had not simply left the trust to Eleanor Rose if Mark violated the financial-abuse condition.
He had divided it equally between Eleanor Rose and Tyler.
Two grandchildren.
One Mark had hidden from us.
One Mark had nearly taught to become like him.
Richard had protected them both.
I began crying before the doorbell rang.
Helen went to answer it.
A young woman stood on the porch.
She was tall.
Dark hair pulled back.
Brown eyes.
And when she smiled nervously, I saw Richard.
