Chapter 7
Mom’s words followed me all the way home.
You haven’t found everything yet.
Rebecca told me not to react.
Detective Grant told me people facing arrest often said things designed to frighten family members.
Melissa said Mom had probably been bluffing.
I wanted to believe all three of them.
I didn’t.
That night, after Noah fell asleep, Melissa and I sat at her kitchen table.
She had made coffee.
I stared at it for several seconds.
She noticed.
“Oh.”
Her face changed.
“I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
“No, it isn’t.”
She dumped both cups into the sink.
“I’ll open bottled water.”
I hated that my mother had done that to me.
A cup of coffee shouldn’t make me nervous.
Someone handing me tea shouldn’t make me wonder what was inside it.
But I could feel the damage now.
Not just to Noah.
To me.
Melissa set a sealed bottle in front of me.
“I keep thinking about what Mom said.”
“So do I.”
“What haven’t we found?”
I opened the bottle.
“Maybe nothing.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“No.”
Melissa stared at the table.
“There’s something I never told you.”
I almost laughed.
“Apparently tonight is a good night for that.”
She flinched.
I regretted it immediately.
“What?”
“Dad almost left Mom.”
I stared.
“When?”
“About a year before he died.”
I sat back.
“Why?”
“She was gambling again.”
“You said he thought she stopped.”
“He found out she hadn’t.”
My chest tightened.
“How do you know?”
“He called me.”
“You?”
“I was living ten minutes away.”
I thought back.
At the time, Rachel and I had just bought our house.
Noah was a toddler.
Dad had seemed tired, but I thought it was work.
“What happened?”
“He said money was disappearing.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
Melissa looked at me sadly.
“Because you and Mom were barely speaking.”
That was true.
After Noah was born, Mom criticized everything Rachel did.
Breastfeeding.
Daycare.
Work.
The way we decorated the nursery.
The name Noah.
Rachel finally told her to stop coming over uninvited.
Mom blamed me.
For months, we barely spoke.
Dad always tried to keep the peace.
“What happened with the divorce?”
“He changed his mind.”
“Why?”
“Mom threatened him.”
My stomach dropped.
“With what?”
Melissa’s eyes filled.
“She said if he left, she would make sure none of us ever spoke to him again.”
I shook my head.
“That wouldn’t have worked.”
“Dad thought it would.”
“Why?”
“Because she had already convinced him you hated him.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“She told Dad that you blamed him for everything she did.”
“That’s insane.”
“I know.”
“Dad knew I loved him.”
Melissa looked away.
“Did he?”
That hurt.
I thought about the last year of Dad’s life.
I had seen him at holidays.
A few dinners.
He had called sometimes.
I always meant to call him back.
I always thought there would be more time.
Then he died.
And Mom had been the grieving widow everyone protected.
Including me.
Melissa went to her bedroom.
She returned carrying a small metal box.
“What’s that?”
“Dad gave it to me three days before he died.”
My pulse quickened.
“Why?”
“He said if anything happened, I should keep it somewhere Mom couldn’t find it.”
“You never opened it?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I didn’t understand most of it.”
She placed the box between us.
Inside were bank statements.
Receipts.
Photocopies of checks.
A handwritten letter.
And a flash drive.
My hands trembled as I opened the letter.
Daniel and Melissa,
If you are reading this, I probably didn’t get the courage to fix things myself.
I stopped.
My throat closed.
Dad’s handwriting.
I could almost hear his voice.
I continued.
Your mother is sick, but being sick does not excuse what she has done.
I have paid debts three times.
Each time she promised it was over.
It was not.
I recently discovered she took money from an account that was meant for both of you.
I stared at Melissa.
“What account?”
She shook her head.
“I don’t know.”
I kept reading.
I also discovered she signed my name on two loan documents.
My stomach turned.
Forged signatures.
This wasn’t new.
Your mother knows I found out. She says she will repair everything. I want to believe her, but I no longer know what is true.
If I do not resolve this, take these records to an attorney.
Do not let guilt keep you from protecting yourselves.
Dad.
I sat there for a long time.
Melissa cried silently.
“He knew.”
“Yes.”
“He knew what she was capable of.”
I looked at her.
“Why did you keep this?”
“Because after he died, Mom fell apart.”
“So you buried it.”
“I thought Dad had been angry when he wrote it.”
“He told you to take it to an attorney.”
“I was scared.”
I wanted to yell.
Instead, I thought about Noah.
About fear.
About silence.
About how Mom had trained all of us in different ways.
I picked up the flash drive.
“We need to see what’s on this.”
We plugged it into Melissa’s laptop.
There were folders.
Bank Records.
Loans.
Messages.
Diane.
Inside the last folder was an audio file.
My hands went cold.
I clicked it.
Dad’s voice filled the room.
“You signed my name.”
Mom answered.
“You told me to handle the finances.”
“I did not tell you to take out a loan.”
“We needed money.”
“For what?”
Silence.
Then Dad’s voice again.
“Diane.”
“I made a mistake.”
“How much?”
“Forty.”
“Forty thousand?”
Silence.
Dad swore.
Then Mom said, “I can fix it.”
“How?”
No answer.
“You’re gambling again.”
“I said I can fix it.”
“With what money?”
Another long silence.
Then Mom said something that made Melissa grip my arm.
“Daniel’s wife has money.”
Dad answered immediately.
“No.”
“Rachel’s family has plenty.”
“No.”
“If Daniel gets access—”
“No.”
“Stop acting like I’m asking him to steal.”
“You’re talking about our son’s wife.”
“She wouldn’t even notice.”
The recording ended.
I stared at the screen.
Twelve years ago.
Before Rachel died.
Before the trust existed.
Mom had already looked at Rachel as a source of money.
Melissa whispered, “She was planning this forever.”
“Not this.”
“But money.”
“Yes.”
My phone rang.
Detective Grant.
I answered immediately.
He sounded tense.
“Mr. Carter, I need you to listen carefully.”
“What happened?”
“Your mother posted bond.”
My chest tightened.
“What?”
“She was released about twenty minutes ago.”
“What about the protection order?”
“It remains active.”
“Where is she?”
“We don’t know yet.”
I stood.
Melissa did too.
Detective Grant continued.
“Go somewhere secure tonight.”
“We’re at Melissa’s.”
“Stay there.”
“Why?”
A pause.
Then he said, “Because officers went to your mother’s house to retrieve additional evidence.”
“And?”
“Several boxes are missing.”
My skin went cold.
“What boxes?”
“Financial records. Personal documents.”
He hesitated.
“And one folder marked Noah.”
I looked toward the hallway.
Noah was asleep ten feet away.
“What was in it?”
“We don’t know.”
Then Melissa’s apartment buzzer rang.
We both froze.
Once.
Twice.
A third time.
My phone was still against my ear.
Detective Grant said, “Daniel?”
I walked toward the intercom.
Melissa checked the building camera through her app.
Her face went white.
“What?”
She turned the screen toward me.
Mom stood outside the front entrance.
And she wasn’t alone.
Beside her was a man I had never seen before.
He held a large envelope.
Mom looked straight into the security camera.
May you like
Then she smiled.
The buzzer rang again.
