Chapter 5 - Rebecca Left Something Behind
Police arrested Eleanor that evening.
She denied everything.
First Leo slipped.
Then the camera angle was “misleading.”
Then she claimed she had gently redirected him with her foot.
When detectives played her own words back, she stopped answering questions.
Julian expected relief.
Instead, he felt dread.
Because one sentence kept circling his mind.
You were supposed to destroy that.
Who had called her?
Who knew about the DNA test?
Who had access to Arthur’s old private number?
And why had Rebecca, weeks before dying, suddenly asked Julian a question he had dismissed?
If something happens to me, promise me your mother never raises Leo.
At the time, Julian had laughed.
Now he opened Rebecca’s cloud backup.
Thousands of photographs.
Messages.
Voice notes.
Hospital schedules.
He searched Eleanor’s name.
The first hundred messages were ordinary.
Then the tone changed.
Eleanor: Tell Julian the truth voluntarily.
Rebecca: There is no “truth.” There is only the story you want him to believe.
Julian stopped.
Another.
Eleanor: Take the test.
Rebecca: You already know Leo is his.
Julian’s heart slammed against his ribs.
Already know.
Not suspect.
Know.
Another message.
Eleanor: Arthur made a reckless decision.
Rebecca: Then fight with your husband. Stop using my child.
Julian stood so quickly his chair fell backward.
Rebecca knew.
She knew about the trust.
She knew Eleanor’s accusations were manufactured.
And she had been fighting alone.
He kept scrolling.
Three weeks before Rebecca’s death:
Rebecca: If you threaten Leo again, I'm telling Julian everything.
Eleanor never replied.
Julian stared at the screen.
“Everything about what?”
He searched Rebecca’s files.
Nothing.
Then photographs.
Nothing.
Then her calendar.
One strange entry appeared two days before she died.
Storage — Pancakes.
Julian frowned.
Rebecca hated pancakes.
More accurately, Rebecca hated cooking anything that required a frying pan.
Then he remembered the old wooden recipe box her grandmother had given her.
It was still packed inside a box at the Connecticut estate.
Police escorted him there the next morning.
The mansion felt different.
Too quiet.
The staircase was blocked with evidence tape.
Julian didn't look at it.
He went straight to storage.
Found Rebecca’s kitchen boxes.
Then the recipe container.
Behind a handwritten card titled Sunday Pancakes sat a yellow envelope.
His name was written across it.
JULIAN — IF ELEANOR WINS
His hands began shaking.
Inside were bank statements.
Corporate records.
Photographs.
A flash drive.
And a letter.
Julian unfolded it.
The first line stopped his heart.
Julian, if you're reading this, either I finally found the courage to tell you—or something happened before I could.
He sat down.
Rebecca continued.
Your mother isn't trying to prove Leo isn't yours.
She knows he is.
She is trying to erase him legally before your father's trust becomes irreversible.
Julian pressed his fist against his mouth.
Then he reached the next paragraph.
And everything changed again.
But Eleanor isn't the person I'm most afraid of.
Julian stared at the words.
Below them was a name.
A name belonging to someone who had stood beside Julian at Rebecca’s funeral.
Someone who had carried Leo’s tiny coffin-shaped floral arrangement into the church when Julian could barely walk.
Someone Julian had trusted since childhood.
Rebecca had underlined the name twice.
Grant Holloway.
May you like
And beneath it:
If I die suddenly, do not let them call it an accident until you know why Grant visited my hospital the night before.
