Chapter 15 - THE LETTERS THAT NEVER REACHED THEIR MOTHER"How many times is he going to hurt us?"
Diamond stood inside Abigail's guest apartment, holding her phone.
The edited video had reached thousands of viewers overnight.
Several local news outlets had contacted the family for comment.
Diamond had spent most of the morning ignoring strangers who felt entitled to judge her life.
Gold sat across from her.
"I spoke to Janelle."
Diamond turned.
"Why?"
"She shared the video."
"Of course she did."
Gold shook her head.
"She didn't create it. Someone sent it to her from an anonymous account."
Diamond laughed bitterly.
"And she posted it without checking?"
Gold nodded.
"She thought it would get attention."
Diamond looked away.
"Well, she got what she wanted."
Gold lowered her head.
"I know."
Abigail entered with Nadia.
The attorney carried a folder.
"We've asked the original hosting accounts to preserve their records, and we're documenting the edited footage."
Diamond exhaled.
"Can you prove it's fake?"
"We have the full conversation recorded by the office security system. Your attorney is requesting the original through the appropriate legal process."
Gold nodded.
"I was there. I can tell them what Diamond actually said."
Diamond looked toward her.
"You would do that?"
Gold met her eyes.
"Yes."
Diamond studied her sister.
There had been a time when Gold would have laughed alongside the students spreading rumors.
Now she was volunteering to stand publicly beside the girl she had once tried to humiliate.
It did not erase the past.
But it mattered.
Later that afternoon, Nadia placed several old envelopes on Abigail's dining table.
They had come from Miriam's metal box.
Each was addressed to Abigail Whitmore.
Some were handwritten.
Others had been typed and printed.
The earliest dated back to when Diamond was only five.
Abigail examined the envelopes.
"These are from Miriam?"
Nadia nodded.
"She retained copies and the returned originals."
Abigail opened the first letter.
Dear Mrs. Whitmore,
I don't know what you have been told about your daughter. I was informed that you agreed to her adoption, but I recently learned that your family has spoken publicly about her death.
Diamond is alive. She is healthy, intelligent, and loved.
I am frightened that something terribly wrong has happened.
Please contact me if you wish to speak about her.
Abigail pressed the paper against her chest.
Another letter contained a photograph of Diamond at age seven.
She was missing a front tooth and holding a certificate from a school mathematics competition.
A third described Diamond's love of drawing.
Another mentioned her dream of becoming an engineer.
Abigail opened each one.
With every page, she discovered a moment of childhood she had been denied.
Her daughter had learned to ride a bicycle.
Her daughter had won a spelling competition.
Her daughter had suffered through a painful case of the flu.
Her daughter had once cried because other children mocked her appearance.
Abigail read the words through tears.
"Why didn't I get these?"
Miriam's voice was quiet.
"I was told you refused them."
Abigail looked up.
"What?"
Miriam removed another envelope.
Inside was a letter apparently written by Abigail.
It stated that she had voluntarily surrendered Diamond and wanted no further contact.
Abigail stared at it.
Then her face hardened.
"I never wrote this."
Nadia leaned forward.
"Are you certain?"
Abigail pointed toward the signature.
"That's not how I sign my name."
Gold moved closer.
She recognized the stationery.
It bore an embossed crest used by Lawrence's personal office.
Abigail continued reading.
The letter warned Miriam not to contact the Whitmore family again.
It threatened legal consequences if she attempted to discuss the adoption publicly.
At the bottom was a signature.
Abigail Whitmore.
Miriam looked devastated.
"I believed you didn't want her."
Abigail stared at her.
"I wanted her every day."
Miriam began crying.
For seventeen years, the two women had lived on opposite sides of a carefully maintained deception.
One believed her daughter was dead.
The other believed the birth mother had rejected her.
And between them stood the man who had made sure neither could challenge his decision.
Gold examined the envelope.
There was a routing mark from the Whitmore family office.
She remembered seeing similar markings on letters delivered to her father's study.
"Mom," she whispered.
Abigail looked up.
"I think Dad had these sent through his office."
Nadia photographed the markings.
"This may establish that someone connected to Lawrence handled the correspondence."
Diamond stared at the letters.
The forged message changed something inside her.
For years, she had imagined her biological mother turning away.
Now she understood that Abigail had been searching for a daughter she believed dead, while Miriam had been told that Abigail never wanted to hear from her again.
Diamond reached for one of Miriam's early letters.
The paper had yellowed.
The handwriting was familiar.
It was the same careful writing Miriam used for grocery lists and birthday cards.
Diamond whispered:
"You tried to tell her."
Miriam nodded.
"I did."
Diamond looked at Abigail.
"And someone made sure she never heard."
Abigail began crying.
Diamond moved toward her.
For a moment, they stood inches apart.
Then Diamond embraced her biological mother.
Abigail made a small, broken sound and wrapped both arms around her.
She did not squeeze too tightly.
She did not demand anything.
She simply held the child she had mourned for seventeen years.
Miriam watched them through her tears.
There was sadness in her expression.
But also relief.
Because loving Diamond had never meant she had to deny another woman's love.
That evening, Gold returned to the mansion to collect the rest of her belongings.
Lawrence was in his study.
He looked tired.
The past several weeks had damaged his business relationships.
Questions about the adoption were circulating.
His attorneys had warned him that Victor Hale's disappearance was making the situation worse.
Gold stopped in the doorway.
"Dad."
He looked up.
"Are you here to apologize?"
Gold stared at him.
"No."
Lawrence sighed.
"Then what do you want?"
"Answers."
"Again?"
Gold stepped inside.
"Mom found the letters."
Lawrence's expression changed.
"What letters?"
"The ones Miriam sent."
He looked away.
Gold continued.
"And the one that pretended to come from Mom."
Lawrence's jaw tightened.
"Your mother doesn't understand everything that happened."
Gold shook her head.
"Stop saying that."
"Gold—"
"You didn't just lie once."
His eyes narrowed.
She continued.
"You lied when Diamond was born. You lied when Mom asked to see her. You lied when Miriam tried to contact us."
Her voice broke.
"And you kept lying every year after that."
Lawrence stood.
"I did what I believed was necessary."
Gold stared at him.
Then she whispered:
"You could have brought Diamond home when she was five. Or ten. Or fifteen."
Lawrence remained silent.
"You could have told Mom the truth at any time."
Gold wiped her tears.
"But you chose to make the same terrible decision over and over again."
Lawrence approached her.
"Your mother would have left me."
Gold looked at him.
"And now she is."
The words struck him.
For a moment, he seemed older than his forty-nine years.
Then he said something that made Gold feel cold.
"Do you know what happens if the investigators prove those signatures were forged?"
Gold said nothing.
Lawrence leaned closer.
"Everything I've built could collapse."
Gold met his eyes.
"Then maybe you should have thought about that before you built it on a lie."
As she turned toward the door, he called after her.
"Gold, if you choose Diamond over me, don't expect to inherit anything."
Gold stopped.
She looked back.
For seventeen years, she had believed her father's wealth guaranteed her future.
Now she understood that accepting his conditions might cost her something far more valuable.
She removed the gold pendant he had given her for her sixteenth birthday.
Then she placed it on his desk.
"You already gave me the most important thing I could have inherited."
Lawrence looked confused.
Gold's eyes filled.
"A sister."
She walked out.
And behind her, Lawrence reached for his phone.
He dialed a number and spoke urgently.
"Victor, wherever you are, call me back. Gold knows about the letters."
The call went to voicemail.
Then Lawrence received a message from an unknown number.
May you like
It contained only six words:
I'm ready to tell them everything.
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