Chapter 16 - WHAT ELISE KNEW
I finally read all of Elise’s emails.
Not just those about Odette.
It felt invasive.
Then necessary.
She knew more than I realized.
Three months before her death she wrote a private note to me but never sent it.
Draft.
Cedric,
Your mother made a fake paternity report.
I stared.
Elise had known for years.
She suspected immediately because no legitimate sample had been collected from me.
She asked Alaric for help.
He confronted Odette.
Odette admitted the report was “illustrative.”
Alaric ordered her to destroy it.
Elise chose not to tell me because I was in the middle of opening my architecture studio and because she feared I would either cut off my mother impulsively or defend her reflexively.
Neither was flattering.
Then the draft continued:
I keep waiting for a calmer time to tell you. That is becoming its own kind of dishonesty.
She never sent it.
Two months later:
Aneurysm.
Death.
No conspiracy.
Only unfinished intention.
That hurt more.
I had spent years believing Elise and I had no major secrets.
Wrong.
She had a reason.
Still a secret.
Could I be angry at someone dead?
Yes.
Grief does not cancel complexity.
I told Maelis nothing yet.
Not age-appropriate.
I told my therapist.
I had started therapy after anger-management ended because court-mandated sessions solved behavior, not history.
I said:
“Everyone thought silence protected me.”
Therapist asked:
“Did you make honesty easy?”
No.
That question landed.
I had been reactive around Odette.
Defensive.
Fast to anger.
Elise had managed me too.
Different motive.
Still management.
I needed to become someone my daughter could tell difficult things without predicting explosion.
That became part of my arc.
At eight, Maelis broke an expensive lamp.
She hid it.
I found pieces under her bed.
Old Cedric would have raised his voice.
I sat.
“Why hide it?”
“Thought mad.”
“I am annoyed.”
She looked terrified.
“Are you safe?”
She nodded.
“Then we clean it and figure out consequence.”
No explosion.
Small.
Important.
Later she confessed she had also eaten cookies before dinner.
I laughed.
Maybe too much.
Progress.
Then Odette wrote again.
Not to Maelis.
To me.
I lied because I believed Elise had taken you from the family, and I wanted proof that would make you choose us.
There.
The money came later.
Before estate.
Before Alaric’s death.
The original motive was possession of a son.
Then money gave the lie a second life.
That distinction mattered.
Control began emotionally.
Profit made it durable.
I did not answer.
May you like
But I kept the letter.
For now.
