Girl From the Tree House, стр. 52

“You did. But the marriage is a fake. There never existed a registered wedding celebrant by the name of Thomas Wicklethorn.”

“How can that be? There were at least eighty people at the wedding ceremony. Are you sure you didn’t make a mistake?”

It must be true. The expression of pity on his face is more than I can bear. It pulls the rug of reality from under my feet. Something inside me shatters into a million pieces like delicate Venetian glass falling onto a quarry stone tiled floor. “I lived a lie for the last twenty-four years?”

“I’d rather see it as you are falling victim to an elaborate scam that involved many people.”

My head was spinning a minute ago. Now there is utter silence where the usual choir resides. Someone puts their hands on my shoulder, but there is nobody behind me when I turn my head. It’s Sky.

“All will be well.”

I’m not sure whether I said it out loud or just thought it. It didn’t even feel like my thoughts, but I knew they were true.

Patrick takes a sip of his coffee. I like how he gives me time to collect my thoughts and to process what he said. Not that it makes sense yet, but it will once I have all the data. He swallows and the smile has left his eyes.

“There’s more. According to the official entries, Horace Reid married Helen in 1973. They never divorced. She is his real widow.”

“But she’s his sister. How is that legal?”

“I checked. She’s his cousin from his father’s side. Her name was Helen Banister. Actually, they were both born not far from here in Mosvale, in the New Gateways community. That’s where they married. Your parents lived there too. I found their death certificate. Did you know?”

An elaborate scam, that’s how Patrick calls it. I know it’s even more elaborate than he imagines. Everything is connected. Someone coming to the house and, going by the scratch marks at the door, trying to get inside. The Tribe filled lots of pages in the black book about the New Gateways community after Maddie saw its photo in the newspaper. Everything is connected. It’s alarming.

“Why did he become my guardian? And why would he stage a fake wedding with me? It doesn’t make sense.”

“I can’t answer that yet. There must have been an advantage for him.”

“To take care of a ten-year-old orphaned girl? I can’t see how that is of any benefit to him.”

He sends me a knowing smile that tells me he’s holding more aces in his hand.

“My father was the probate lawyer that dealt with your parent’s will when they died. Horace Reid was the appointed executor and named as your guardian. I searched through the old files from before I took over my father’s practice and found some interesting documents.”

“Horace was my guardian. I can’t believe they were married all the time. Why would they lie to me? I trusted Horace to have my best interest at heart. At least in the beginning. I can’t even find words to express how angry I am.” Somehow my mind refuses to comprehend what Patrick just told me. It can’t be true. Maybe he made a mistake?

“You are sure you didn’t make a mistake? You had the right names and dates? It’s not a different couple you researched?”

“I’m so sorry, Elise, so very sorry. Remember you didn’t get anywhere with your search. Horace and Helen betrayed you.”

Inside my usually busy and vocal mind is now an all-encompassing, deafening silence. I wish I could disappear and not have to see the pity on Patrick’s face.

“Do you know how large your parent’s estate was and who the beneficiaries were?”

“No. I was ten years old. I barely knew my name. I did not understand what was up or what was down. I never saw a will or anything like it.”

“I didn’t think you would. Your parents were rich even by today’s standards. We could hire a specialist to investigate where the money they left went. I fear though, there will not be much left.”

“I don’t care about the money. What is the situation with my aunt’s house?” I never expected my parents left me anything other than bad memories. Hearing Horace and Helen might have spent everything my parents left behind didn’t bother me in the slightest.

“The title transfer to you went through without a problem.” He passes me an envelope. “Here is the deed to Wright’s Homestead. I’m glad to see another Wright woman living in it. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, I guess.” I’m exhausted. My emotions are all over the place. I’ve had about as much as I can tolerate. Given that I’m not alone in this body, I would love if someone would take over from me. Now would be a good time. No. Now would be an excellent time, because I’m about to crack. I’m waiting, but nothing happens. Thanks for nothing. It looks like the nervous breakdown has to wait till later.

“Are you okay? Can I get you something? A glass of water, a coffee, something?” His eyes cloud with concern as he studies me. If I look how I feel I must be a sight to behold. Why do I have the sense there is more to come?

“This isn’t the end yet, is it?”

He lets out a sigh. “No, I don’t think so. I stirred up too many sleeping dogs. Your parents owned properties. The courts will follow up on your parent’s will. I reported the illegal wedding to the authorities. I had to.”

“You don’t have to apologize. You’ve cleared up a mystery for me that had me puzzled for ages. I think I’m fine. Thank you. I want to go home and digest the news if you don’t mind. This is all a bit much for a normal Monday morning.” I need to get away and pick the broken remains of myself off Patrick’s office floor.

“Let me get a driver for