I didn't open the second envelope immediately.
I sat there looking at it.
Three names were written across the front.
Shane.
Melissa.
Daniel.
All three of Arthur's children.
The envelope was thick.
There were several sheets inside.
I turned it over.
The seal was still intact.
I wondered why Arthur had hidden it instead of giving it to his family.
Had he died before he had the chance?
Or had he deliberately decided that it should only be opened when something specific happened?
I didn't know.
I called Helen again.
This time, she answered while she was preparing lunch.
I told her what I had found.
She became very quiet when I mentioned the envelope.
"That must be the letter my father was talking about."
"Did he know what it contained?"
"He said Arthur wanted his children to understand an agreement they had all discussed years earlier."
I looked at the envelope.
"Why would Arthur hide it?"
Helen sighed.
"My father believed Arthur was worried that the family would argue about the property."
I asked whether Helen thought I should open it.
She didn't tell me what to do.
Instead, she suggested that I photograph the envelope and speak with a solicitor before making decisions about original documents.
That sounded sensible.
I wasn't interested in making a mistake.
I took photographs of everything.
The cabinet.
The folders.
The envelope.
Arthur's letter.
Then I called a solicitor recommended by a colleague.
I explained that I had discovered old documents hidden inside a property I owned.
I didn't mention every family detail.
I simply asked whether I should have the documents examined before disturbing them further.
He advised me to keep the originals safe and arrange an appointment.
He also reminded me that finding old papers inside a house didn't automatically establish who owned them or what legal effect they had.
I appreciated his honesty.
For the moment, I placed everything back in the cabinet.
I locked the spare bedroom.
Then I went downstairs.
I hadn't eaten since breakfast.
I made a sandwich but barely touched it.
My mind kept returning to the same question.
Why had Elora needed me?
If she knew about the hidden room, why hadn't she simply told me?
She could have explained the situation.
She could have asked permission.
I might have helped her willingly.
Instead, she had allowed me to believe her stay was only about recovering from a broken leg.
That evening, I finally called her.
She answered after several rings.
"Claire?"
Her voice sounded tired.
"Hello, Elora."
There was silence.
Then she said:
"I was wondering when you might call."
I closed my eyes.
"So you expected this."
She didn't deny it.
"Yes."
I sat at the dining table.
"Did you know Patricia would bring me the shoebox?"
"I asked her to keep it safe."
"Did you ask her to give it to me?"
"Yes."
I stared at the table.
"Why didn't you just tell me everything before you moved in?"
Elora sighed.
"I was afraid."
"Afraid of what?"
"Afraid you wouldn't believe me."
I felt anger rising.
"You could have given me the chance to decide."
"I know."
"No, Elora. I don't think you do."
She became quiet.
I continued.
"I welcomed you into my home because you told me you were struggling. I thought you needed help."
"I did need help."
"Then why were you watching my schedule?"
She took a breath.
"Because I needed to examine the room without you being there."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The answer.
I already knew it, but hearing her admit it made it worse.
"Did you know the cabinet was there?"
"I knew Arthur had hidden something in that room."
"Did you know exactly where?"
"Not exactly."
I looked toward the staircase.
"Then what were you doing for four weeks?"
"I was looking for it."
I felt my jaw tighten.
"While I was at work?"
"Yes."
"While I was making your meals and driving you to appointments?"
She began crying.
I hated hearing it.
Not because I didn't care.
Because I didn't want her tears to become another reason for me to forget what she had done.
"I am sorry, Claire."
I said nothing.
She continued.
"I should have told you."
"Why did you think I wouldn't help?"
"Because of Shane."
I looked down.
"Don't bring him into this."
"I know you don't want to hear about him. But he is part of the reason I was frightened."
I almost ended the call.
Then she explained.
Arthur had left documents concerning the family property and a financial agreement.
After his death, Elora believed the children had begun interpreting the agreement differently.
She had been asked to sign papers.
Some were described as routine.
Others involved decisions about the family's remaining assets.
She had refused to sign anything she didn't understand.
Her children became frustrated.
They told her she was making matters difficult.
She told them she needed time.
Then she discovered that the copies she had been given didn't appear to match the original paperwork Arthur had discussed with her.
I listened carefully.
"Did you tell Shane?"
"Yes."
"And what did he say?"
"He told me not to worry about it."
I waited.
"He said everything had already been handled."
"Did you believe him?"
"No."
Her answer was immediate.
I leaned back.
"Why?"
"Because I remembered what Arthur had told me before he died."
She explained that Arthur had repeatedly warned her not to sign documents without checking the original agreement.
He had also told her where he believed the papers were kept.
But after his death, the entrance to the room had been covered.
She had searched for years.
Then she discovered that I owned the property.
"How did you know I had bought this house?"
"Your address was in the property records."
I frowned.
"Did you arrange for me to buy it?"
"No."
Her answer came quickly.
"I didn't arrange the sale, Claire. I promise you that."
I wasn't sure whether to believe her.
She continued.
"I knew the property had been sold. I also knew you had moved into it. I hoped you might allow me to look someday."
I rubbed my forehead.
"And then you broke your leg."
"Yes."
"Was the accident real?"
She became quiet.
Then she answered.
"Yes, sweetheart. I really broke my leg."
I believed that part.
There had been medical appointments.
There had been treatment.
I had seen the brace.
But the timing had created an opportunity she hadn't wanted to miss.
She admitted that after the accident, she had decided to ask me to stay with her.
She thought four weeks would give her enough time to search.
I felt a wave of disappointment.
"Did you ever intend to tell me?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"When I found the documents."
I looked toward the staircase.
"I found them."
The other end of the line went silent.
Then Elora whispered:
"You found Arthur's papers?"
"Yes."
"All of them?"
"Three folders. Two letters. And something addressed to you and your children."
I heard her breathing change.
"Is the envelope still sealed?"
"Yes."
She began crying again.
"Oh, Claire."
I stared at the envelope on the table.
"What does it say?"
"I don't know."
"Then why are you so upset?"
She paused.
"Because I have spent years hoping that letter was still there."
I didn't know what to say.
Finally, I asked her to tell me what she thought it contained.
She refused to guess.
She said Arthur had been very specific about keeping the original papers together.
She wanted me to have them examined properly.
I agreed.
But I made one condition.
"No more secrets."
She answered immediately.
"Agreed."
I ended the call.
For several minutes, I sat quietly.
Then I looked at the envelope again.
I still hadn't opened it.
And I realized that the next decision couldn't be made by Elora alone.
It involved three adult children.
A deceased father.
And a woman who had unknowingly become part of a family disagreement five years after her divorce.
I decided to wait for the solicitor's advice.
For once, I wasn't going to let anyone else's urgency determine what I did next.
Click here to continue reading: PART 11: The Solicitor Examined Arthur’s Original Papers, and One Detail Showed That the Family Had Been Working With an Incomplete Version
I Thought My Marriage Was the Only Thing My Ex-Husband’s Family Had Taken From Me, Until His Mother Needed My Help
Part 10 of 20
