“Iam still working out the details. I don’t know your father’s story and your Grandmother Monk is not sharing them if she knows them at all.” He shook his head. “As my mother put it, when we confirmed that you were her granddaughter, Daisy Monk is a bitch. But right now she is our bitch and I am not going to mess with her by pushing too hard.”
I sighed. “How did you confirm it?”
“DNA test.” Julian met my gaze. “Not to be gross, but we had your toothbrush.”
I was beyond things being gross at this point. “How did you even know to look at the Monks?”
“I hired someone to look into your mother. There is virtually nothing about her after she left, but there was plenty from before. Seems like the rest of your family went to Pullman, but they put your mother in a small girl s’ school that no longer exists. That’s why we didn’t know her. We knew who your aunt was and avoided her.” He shook his head. “Honestly, I never cared for any of your family.”
Rosalind sighed. “Not helpful.”
“Right, sorry.”
Stephen interrupted. “Your family is in serious financial straits . They’re in bed with lots of bad people. Internationally. It’s a bad situation. I’d partially funded your Aunt Tricia’s husband, but no more, and I’m glad for it. Anyway, Alatheia, they want your money. You’re the only one with any left. I hate to tell you, but you paid for your own abuse in that place through the money in the trust that your mother left to cover your education specifically. It was the only thing they could touch it for. Your education or your health.”
That was ridiculous. What? It didn’t make any sense. None. “I don’t have any money. I’m entirely dependent. I am the Poor Relation.”
The guys would understand what that meant even if their parents didn’t quite get it.
“No,” Daniel sighed, taking his turn. “You’re not. At the time of his death, your maternal grandfather was worth almost a billion dollars. When he died, that was split four ways among his four children. Each one receiving a quarter of the total. His wife preceded him in death. But your aunts and uncle made very poor decisions. Got in bed with bad people. It’s almost all gone. Yours sits in a trust your mother set up for you, set to be yours to access the day you turn eighteen. If something should happen to you before you’re eighteen, the trust will be given to a charity to save the whales.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Random, right? Unless your mother really cared about whales. She even made provisions for how much a year could be used for your care and welfare. A lawyer in Colorado is disbursing it to your aunt every year. I think she did use it for tuition. Other than that, her own use. The lawyer thought there was also a will giving you to someone other than your mom’sfamily, but he doesn’t have it and doesn’t know who it was. So, we’ll leave that for now. She set it up to protect you from them.”
My head started to pound. “I don’t understand. We were living in a trailer. We weren’t living like she had, what, almost two hundred fifty million dollars.”
“She was hiding.” Rosalind gave me a small smile. “She was afraid of them. That’s why she changed the name. She hid where she hoped they wouldn’t find her. Took you away. Never touched it. I can’t imagine the strength that woman had. She loved you very deeply. I can tell.”
Tears came to my eyes. I thought I was done with crying, but it turned out I just needed the right thing to be said for them to flood my vision again. I wiped at them until Phoenix took a napkin and dabbed at my face. “Of course she loved you.”
I sighed. “But she died of a drug overdose and left me to this.”
“Still working on that.” Kit shook his head. “Anyway, they have to keep you alive until you turn eighteen. Given that you didn’t know about the trust, you wouldn’t have designated it to anyone upon your death. They could go to court then and make the argument that it needs to go back to the family.”
I put my head in my hands. “So, then they sent me off to that place to have it done. No muss. No fuss.”
“Maybe it took them that long to find a place like that. Maybe you were just starting to make them nervous. Because you see the one thing that was very clear was that the reason she spent all her time in that other school was because they wanted her kept away from the one guy she couldn’t seem to stay away from, Peter Monk.” Kit sighed. “Once I read that, I looked him up. Disappeared around the same time as your mom. Red hair. Brown eyes. I went to Daisy and talked to her. She was willing to have the DNA test. He’s your dad. Your mother’s family knows that. They can’t have you finding that out. We’re annoying, but the Monks are deadly to them.”
My mind whirled. I was finally starting to catch up. The guys were stunned. All of them silent. “I was seen with Murial. At the museum. She was texting me. The PI. They saw it.”
Jer sighed. “They were what? Before they found the death school they were going to kill you themselves? Slip and Fall? Hitman?”
“In any case, you’re safe until you’re eighteen. They know the Monks know about you, they have taken custody—they’re the Monks, they can do that—but they don’t know anything about us knowing the rest. That’s good. That lets us trap them and destroy them. This is what I do. We’re in my territory now. You can trust me on this. They might even actively try to keep you alive now that they know the Monks know, since they’re going to gift you money at eighteen too. That’s just what they do. Apparently Murial got hers early. I’m not sure why. But, in any case, your family might think they can get that as well.”
Money? They were going to kill me for money? I resisted the urge to pull my knees to my face. It was hard, but I did it. Instead, my hands shook. “Did you… did you find my real birth certificate?”
“Oh.” Kit nodded. “I did. Once I knew things, it became easier. The lawyer knew. The one you have is fabricated. Your family made your dad’s last name Winder lest the Monks ever find out but changed it to make it look like your mom had used her real name. None of that is true. You were born a week earlier. Sorry, you have the wrong birthday every year. But, your real name is Jayne Alatheia Winder. Daughter of Delphine Winder and Peter Winder.” He scratched his head. “Nowhere on there does it say anything about Stapleton. Or Monk.”
I choked. “Jayne? No one has ever called me Jayne. I promise you that.”
“It’s probably another level of protection. Give you a first name they never use and call you the middle name.” Jeremy played with his fork. “It’s smart.”
Okay. I was done. “Thank you for all of this hard work. I mean, thank you. And I… I…”
Rosalind took my hand. “You don’t have to say anything. Just breathe. I have something for you.” She rose and walked into the kitchen, returning with something knitted she held in her hand. “I used to do this a lot as a young woman. I’m worried your head is going to be constantly cold.”
It was a pink knitted hat.
