Chapter 9
A year to the day after Madison collapsed at my graduation party, the three of us went back to the family estate.
We’d hardly been there since that night.
Too many bad memories.
Too many ghosts.
But the house had been sitting empty, and we’d finally decided it was time to go through it.
To decide what to keep.
What to donate.
What to sell.
The gates creaked open as we drove up the long, tree-lined driveway.
The house looked different in the daylight.
Smaller, somehow.
Less intimidating.
Like a monster you realize was just a shadow on the wall all along.
We walked through the front door together.
The air smelled like dust and old furniture polish.
Everything was exactly as we’d left it.
The crystal chandeliers still hung in the foyer.
The expensive paintings still hung on the walls.
The grand piano still sat in the corner of the living room, covered by a white sheet.
Madison shivered as we walked into the ballroom where the party had been.
The marble floor still had faint, invisible stains from the champagne that had been spilled that night.
From the glass my mother had dropped when Madison fell.
“I still can’t believe it happened here,” she said quietly, running her hand along the mantel. “In our own house. Where we grew up.”
My mother nodded.
“I know. It feels like a different lifetime. Like it happened to someone else.”
We spent the whole day going through room by room.
We packed up boxes of old photos, childhood toys, books we’d loved.
We donated Richard’s expensive suits, his watches, his golf clubs to charity.
We didn’t want any of it.
None of it had ever really been ours anyway.
Late that afternoon, I found myself standing in front of the big oak bookshelves in Richard’s old study.
I’d avoided this room all day.
But now I was here, and I found I wasn’t scared anymore.
Just curious.
I ran my finger along the spines of the old leather-bound books.
Most of them he’d never even read.
Just bought for show.
And then my hand hit something that didn’t feel like a book.
A small, hidden latch at the back of the shelf.
I frowned, pressing it.
There was a soft click.
A section of the bookshelf swung open, revealing a small, hidden safe built into the wall.
It was old.
Older than Richard.
My grandfather must have put it there.
“Guys?” I called out. “You’re going to want to see this.”
My mother and Madison came running.
They stared at the open safe.
Inside was a thick envelope.
Sealed with wax.
My name was written on the front in my grandfather’s messy, distinctive handwriting.
For Natalie.
To be opened only if I am gone and you find yourself in need of guidance.
My hands shook as I broke the seal and pulled out the letter.
It was dated three weeks before he died.
The same week he’d changed the will.
My dearest Natalie,
If you’re reading this, then I’m gone.
And Richard has probably shown you exactly who he really is.
I’m so sorry, my sweet girl.
I’m sorry I didn’t do more to protect you while I was alive.
I’m sorry I let him treat you the way he did for so long.
I always knew.
I always saw how he looked at you.
How he favored Madison.
How he tried to break your spirit little by little every day.
But I also saw something he never did.
I saw your strength.
Your kindness.
Your brilliant, beautiful mind.
I saw the way you treated everyone the same—from the CEO of our biggest client to the kid who bagged our groceries.
I saw that you had the one thing Richard never had: a conscience.
I changed the will because I knew what he was planning.
I didn’t have proof, not enough to put him in prison.
But I knew.
A man doesn’t look at his own child the way he looked at you unless he’s planning to hurt her.
So I did the only thing I could.
I put the one thing he cared about most in the world—this company, this legacy—into your hands.
Because I knew you’d protect it.
I knew you’d protect the employees.
I knew you’d do the right thing, no matter how hard it got.
I also knew Richard would try to stop you.
I knew he’d try to cheat you.
To lie.
To steal.
Maybe even worse.
And I’m so, so sorry for whatever you had to go through because of the choice I made.
But I never doubted you.
Not for a second.
I knew you’d find a way.
You’re a Brooks, Natalie.
The best of us.
Now it’s your turn.
Run this company the way it should be run.
With honesty.
With heart.
And never, ever let anyone make you feel like you’re not enough.
Because you are more than enough.
You’re everything.
I’m so proud of you.
I always have been.
With all my love,
Grandpa
I finished reading.
The letter slipped from my fingers onto the desk.
I couldn’t speak.
I couldn’t breathe.
All these years I’d thought no one saw me.
No one cared.
But he had.
My grandfather had seen everything.
And he’d believed in me.
Enough to bet the entire future of his life’s work on me.
Madison wrapped her arms around me from behind, resting her chin on my shoulder.
She was crying.
So was my mother.
“He loved you so much, Nat,” Madison whispered. “He really did.”
I nodded, wiping my own tears away with the back of my hand.
“I know. I know he did.”
We left the estate that evening as the sun was setting.
We took the letter.
We took the boxes of memories.
We took everything that mattered.
And we locked the front door behind us for the last time.
A week later, we sold the house to a young family with three small children.
A couple who’d worked hard their whole lives and had finally saved enough to buy their dream home.
We sold it to them for half its market value.
They cried when we told them.
We cried too.
That house had never been a home to us.
Not really.
It was just a building Richard had filled with expensive things and cold silences and lies.
Home wasn’t a place.
May you like
Home was the three of us.
Together.
