Chapter 3 - The Daughter Eleanor Never Spoke About“Great-granddaughter?”
Lily’s voice came out almost inaudible.
Eleanor remained motionless.
Richard Whitmore looked uncomfortable for the first time since arriving.
Lily moved closer to her grandmother.
“Grandma?”
Eleanor stared at the floor.
Richard quietly said, “Perhaps I should leave.”
“No.”
Lily looked at him.
“You’re not leaving until somebody explains this.”
Eleanor whispered, “Lily.”
“You said Mom was Grandpa Frank’s daughter.”
“She was.”
“Then how can I be related to Henry?”
Eleanor’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because Frank wasn’t your mother’s biological father.”
Lily sat down hard.
“What?”
Eleanor reached toward her.
Lily pulled away.
Not angrily.
Instinctively.
“I don’t understand.”
Eleanor’s voice trembled.
“Your mother’s biological father was Henry Whitmore.”
Richard stared at Eleanor.
“So it was true.”
“You didn’t know?”
“My father never confirmed it.”
Eleanor looked away.
Lily’s face had gone pale.
“My mom was Henry’s daughter?”
“Yes.”
“Did Mom know?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Eleanor closed her eyes.
“Because I was a coward.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Richard stepped toward the door.
“I really should give you privacy.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“Stay.”
He stopped.
“If your father put this in his will, then you deserve to hear it too.”
Lily wrapped her arms around herself.
Eleanor began.
“In December 1975, Henry asked me to marry him.”
She looked at the ring.
“We planned to leave Boston together after Christmas.”
“Why leave?”
“His father had threatened to disinherit him.”
Lily frowned.
“So?”
“Henry said he didn’t care.”
For the first time, Eleanor smiled at the memory.
“He packed one suitcase. Imagine that. Henry Whitmore owned more suits than I owned clothes, and he packed one suitcase.”
“What changed?”
“I discovered I was pregnant.”
Lily stared.
“My mom?”
“Yes.”
Eleanor swallowed.
“I was terrified, but Henry was happy.”
“What happened?”
“On Christmas Eve, Henry was supposed to meet me at the train station.”
The old woman’s eyes became distant.
“I waited six hours.”
Lily said nothing.
“He never came.”
Richard’s brow furrowed.
“My father told me he was injured that Christmas.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“He was.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I learned later.”
She continued.
“Henry’s father found out our plan. He had two men stop Henry’s car.”
Richard stiffened.
“What?”
“They beat him.”
“My grandfather?”
“Yes.”
Richard looked horrified.
Eleanor nodded.
“Henry spent nine days in a private hospital under a false name.”
“And you?”
“I thought he abandoned me.”
Lily covered her mouth.
“Grandma.”
“Arthur Whitmore came to see me.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me Henry had changed his mind.”
Eleanor’s eyes hardened even after half a century.
“He handed me five thousand dollars and told me to ‘take care of the problem.’”
Lily did not need to ask what he meant.
“I threw the money in his face.”
Richard whispered, “Jesus.”
“Arthur told me if I ever contacted Henry again, he would destroy my parents financially.”
“Could he?”
“Yes.”
Eleanor continued.
“I left Boston.”
“Where did you go?”
“Ohio. Your great-aunt lived there.”
“And Mom was born?”
“Seven months later.”
“What about Henry?”
“I didn’t see him again for almost twenty years.”
Lily stared.
“You saw him again?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“At a charity dinner.”
“Did you tell him about Mom?”
Eleanor shook her head.
“Why?”
“By then I was married to Frank.”
Lily’s eyes filled.
“Grandpa knew?”
“Yes.”
“He knew Mom wasn’t his?”
“From the day we met.”
Eleanor smiled through tears.
“Frank Bennett was the best man I ever knew.”
Lily remembered her grandfather only vaguely.
Warm hands.
Peppermint gum.
Baseball games on television.
“He raised Mom.”
“He loved her as if blood were the least important thing in the world.”
“Did Henry ask about you?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“I told him I had a husband and daughter and that he should stay away.”
Lily’s expression crumpled.
“But why?”
“Because I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing everything again.”
Richard sat down slowly.
“My father never stopped keeping photographs of you.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“What?”
“I found dozens after he died.”
Lily turned toward Richard.
“Why didn’t he find Grandma?”
“He tried.”
Eleanor shook her head.
“Not hard enough.”
Richard sighed.
“You moved twice, changed your last name, and refused contact with anyone connected to the family.”
“Because every time a Whitmore entered my life, something got destroyed.”
Richard accepted that.
Lily looked at the envelope Henry had left.
“Can I read his letter?”
Eleanor’s eyes went to it.
“No.”
“Grandma.”
“Please.”
Lily picked it up.
“It might tell us why he left the money.”
Eleanor whispered, “I already know why.”
“Then tell me.”
“Guilt.”
Richard shook his head.
“I don’t think so.”
Eleanor looked at him.
“My father spent the last two years of his life investigating something.”
“What?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“He removed my sister Victoria from several trusts. He transferred assets. He hired private investigators.”
Eleanor’s expression changed.
“Why?”
Richard reached inside his briefcase.
He produced another document.
“This.”
It was a photocopy of an old hospital record.
A birth certificate.
Baby: Rose Marie Hart.
Mother: Eleanor Hart.
Father: blank.
Lily stared.
Her mother had been born Rose Marie Hart.
Eleanor’s maiden name.
Richard pointed toward handwriting in the margin.
“H.W. biological father confirmed through DNA, 2024.”
Eleanor frowned.
“Henry tested Rose?”
“She died three years ago.”
“No.”
Richard looked uncomfortable.
“He used a sample preserved after an ancestry screening your daughter took before her death.”
Lily remembered.
Her mother had ordered a genealogy kit for Christmas.
She had laughed about discovering whether the family had Vikings.
Eleanor whispered, “He found out.”
“Yes.”
“And Lily?”
Richard pulled out a second page.
“He confirmed the line through Lily’s public genealogy profile.”
Lily blinked.
“Mom made one for me.”
Richard nodded.
Eleanor looked furious.
“He tested my family without permission.”
“I’m not defending it.”
“Then why did he do it?”
Richard hesitated.
“Because he believed Rose’s death may not have been the accident everyone thought it was.”
Lily went still.
Her parents had died together.
Car crash.
Drunk driver.
That was what everyone had said.
“Why would Henry think that?”
Richard opened one final folder.
Inside was a photograph taken the week before Lily’s parents died.
Lily’s mother, Rose, stood outside a bank.
Beside her was a woman Lily had never seen.
Richard whispered:
“That woman is my sister Victoria.”
Eleanor stared.
Richard continued.
May you like
“And according to my father’s investigator, Victoria paid the drunk driver’s legal fees after the crash.”
Lily stopped breathing.
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