Chapter 6 - The Accident Nobody Told Me About
Her name was Rachel Kessler.
Dalia had lived with her for one semester.
I remembered her vaguely.
Quiet girl.
Glasses.
Biology major.
She had come to Thanksgiving once.
Dad stared at the ledger.
“What accident?”
I asked.
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“Your mother said it was handled.”
“Dad.”
“I didn’t know money came from you.”
“What happened?”
He looked at me.
“Dalia borrowed Rachel’s car.”
My stomach tightened.
“Without asking?”
“Yes.”
Of course.
“She went to a party.”
I already knew where this was going.
Dad continued.
“On the way back, she hit a parked vehicle.”
“Was anyone hurt?”
“No.”
Some tension left my shoulders.
Not much.
“She panicked.”
“What did she do?”
“She left.”
Micah swore quietly.
Dad nodded.
“The car had damage.”
“How much?”
“Apparently a lot.”
“And Mom paid Rachel eighteen thousand five hundred dollars not to report Dalia?”
Dad looked away.
“That’s what I was told.”
“Using my money.”
“Yes.”
A strange calm came over me.
Not rage.
Something colder.
Precision.
“When did you know?”
“The next morning.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“I thought your mother handled it.”
“Dad, what did you think handled meant?”
He didn’t answer.
Because we both knew.
He had chosen not to ask.
His ignorance had been convenient.
My phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then a message appeared.
Are you Vera Holt?
I replied.
Yes.
Three dots.
This is Rachel Kessler.
The room changed.
I showed Micah and Dad.
Another message.
I think you need to know what your sister and mother did.
My heartbeat thudded once.
Hard.
I typed.
Call me.
Rachel called thirty seconds later.
Her voice was nervous.
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize.”
“I should have contacted you months ago.”
“What happened?”
She exhaled.
“The story your family told you is probably not the real one.”
Dad stared at the speakerphone.
Rachel continued.
“Dalia didn’t just damage my car.”
“What else happened?”
“She used my identity.”
I stopped breathing.
“What?”
“She opened two credit cards in my name.”
Dad whispered—
“No.”
Rachel heard him.
“Mr. Holt?”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the accident?”
“I knew part of it.”
“Well, the money wasn’t for the car.”
I looked at the ledger.
“Then what was the eighteen thousand five hundred dollars?”
“Your mother paid me after I threatened to hire an attorney.”
“For the identity theft?”
“Yes.”
“And you agreed?”
“I was twenty-one.”
Her voice cracked.
“I was scared.”
I softened slightly.
“She promised everything would be paid off.”
“Was it?”
“No.”
Of course not.
Rachel continued.
“There’s still one account.”
“How much?”
“About seven thousand.”
Dad closed his eyes.
I asked the next question.
“Why are you contacting me now?”
Rachel hesitated.
“Because Dalia called me this morning.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“What did she want?”
“She wanted me to tell you that the eighteen thousand was a loan.”
I laughed once.
Rachel didn’t.
“She offered me money.”
“How much?”
“Five thousand.”
“To lie?”
“Yes.”
“Where would Dalia get five thousand dollars?”
Rachel was silent.
Then she said—
“That’s the thing.”
“What?”
“She told me not to worry about where it came from.”
My stomach sank.
Rachel continued.
“But before she hung up, I heard your mother in the background.”
“What did she say?”
May you like
Rachel paused.
“She said, ‘Use the emergency account before Vera finds it.’”
