Chapter 3
I did not go to the bank.
Not immediately.
Ryan expected me to.
That was exactly why I didn’t.
I drove to Baylor University Medical Center and sat in the parking garage for almost five minutes before I could force myself out of the car.
My phone rang seven times.
Ryan.
Then my father.
Then Ryan again.
I turned it off.
Vanessa was in an emergency room bay with a bruised hip and a bandage across her elbow.
Nothing was broken.
When she saw me, relief crossed her face.
“You came.”
“I almost didn’t.”
“I wouldn’t blame you.”
I closed the curtain behind me.
“Start talking.”
She looked toward the hallway.
“Where’s Ryan?”
“Not here.”
“Your father?”
“No.”
“Good.”
I sat down.
“You have five minutes before I decide I hate you again.”
She nodded slowly.
“That’s fair.”
“No, it isn’t.”
My voice shook.
“None of this is fair.”
Vanessa looked down.
“I met Ryan eight years ago.”
“I don’t need your love story.”
“It isn’t one.”
“Then shorten it.”
She swallowed.
“We got married in Las Vegas after ten months together.”
“And then?”
“He changed.”
“How?”
“Secretive. Controlling. Always chasing another deal.”
I almost laughed.
“That sounds familiar.”
“He said he was building something huge.”
“What?”
“I never knew.”
“You married a man without knowing what he did?”
“He worked in commercial finance. I knew that much.”
“He told me he was a consultant when we met.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“He was never a consultant.”
I felt another piece of my life crack.
“When did you separate?”
“Six years ago.”
The timing made my chest tighten.
The same year my mother died.
Vanessa continued.
“We filed paperwork. At least I thought we did.”
“You signed divorce papers?”
“I signed what Ryan gave me.”
“Did you have your own attorney?”
“No.”
I closed my eyes.
“Then three years later, he married me.”
“Yes.”
“And you didn’t know.”
“No.”
“When did you find out?”
“Three months ago.”
My eyes opened.
“Three months?”
She nodded.
“That’s when I confronted him.”
“And then you started sleeping with him again?”
Her face tightened.
“We had already started again.”
I stared at her.
She looked ashamed.
“He found me last year.”
“How convenient.”
“He told me he had never stopped loving me.”
My laugh was ugly.
“Of course he did.”
“He said you were separated emotionally.”
“Emotionally?”
“He said you slept in different rooms.”
“We didn’t.”
“He said your marriage existed because your father had forced him into it.”
“My father forced Ryan to marry me?”
“That’s what he told me.”
I stood up.
“I can’t listen to this.”
“Emily.”
I turned toward the curtain.
“He lied to me too.”
“That does not make us the same.”
“I know.”
“You knew he had a wife.”
“Yes.”
“And you continued.”
“Yes.”
I turned back.
“At least you can say it.”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I’m not asking you to forgive me.”
“Good.”
“I’m asking you to understand why I came today.”
I sat again.
“Then tell me.”
Vanessa took a breath.
“Two weeks ago, Ryan asked me to open a new account in Houston.”
“For what?”
“He said we would use it after leaving Dallas.”
“How much money?”
“Eight hundred thousand dollars.”
I stared at her.
“You moved eight hundred thousand dollars?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because the money came from Harrison Development.”
My father’s company.
My hands went cold.
“I asked him why.”
“What did he say?”
“He said it was owed to him.”
“For what?”
“He wouldn’t explain.”
“So you started looking.”
“Yes.”
She pulled the hospital blanket closer.
“I had access to his apartment.”
“The Houston apartment?”
“No. A place in Dallas.”
My stomach dropped again.
Ryan had another apartment.
Of course he did.
Vanessa continued.
“He kept a locked cabinet in his office there.”
“How did you open it?”
“I found the key.”
“And?”
“There were copies of contracts.”
She paused.
“Old letters.”
“What letters?”
“Letters from your mother.”
I could not speak.
Vanessa watched me carefully.
“They were addressed to your father.”
“My mother wrote to my father.”
“Yes.”
“So?”
“Some were about Ryan.”
I shook my head.
“That’s impossible. Ryan and I didn’t meet until after Mom died.”
Vanessa said nothing.
I stared at her.
“What?”
“Ryan knew your mother.”
The room tilted.
“No.”
“Emily.”
“No.”
“He worked with Harrison Development before you met him.”
“No, he didn’t.”
“He did.”
“My father introduced us at a charity event.”
“I know.”
“You’re saying they pretended not to know each other?”
“Yes.”
I stood so fast the chair hit the wall.
“Why?”
“I don’t know everything.”
“You said there were recordings.”
“Yes.”
“Ryan recording my mother?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then what?”
Vanessa looked toward the hallway again.
“Your mother recorded him.”
I stopped.
“She suspected he was stealing.”
The sentence landed like a stone.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“From my father’s company?”
“Yes.”
“How would she know?”
“She was the chief financial officer.”
I knew that.
Before cancer had taken her, my mother had handled nearly everything at Harrison Development.
But I had been twenty-four.
I was finishing graduate school.
My parents never talked about business at home.
Vanessa continued.
“She found transfers.”
“What kind?”
“Payments to shell companies.”
My mind raced.
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said copies of everything were in the bank box.”
“Most of it.”
“Why did Ryan have my mother’s evidence?”
Vanessa went quiet.
“Why?”
“I think he stole it after she died.”
My stomach turned.
“How?”
“I don’t know.”
“You keep saying you don’t know.”
“Because I don’t.”
“Then tell me what you do know.”
She reached for her purse.
The nurse had placed it on a chair.
Vanessa pulled out her phone.
“I took pictures.”
My breath caught.
“Of the letters?”
“Yes.”
She unlocked the phone.
Then someone pulled the curtain open.
My father stood there.
Thomas Harrison.
Sixty-eight years old.
Silver hair.
Perfect navy suit.
And the expression of a man who had just discovered his house was on fire.
“Emily.”
I stood.
“How did you know I was here?”
“Ryan called me.”
Vanessa whispered, “Of course he did.”
Dad looked at her.
His face went cold.
“You need to stay away from my daughter.”
I stepped between them.
“No.”
Dad stared at me.
“What?”
“She stays.”
“Emily, you’re upset.”
“I am way past upset.”
“You were involved in an accident.”
“Don’t.”
“I’m only saying you should go home.”
“No.”
“Get some rest.”
“No.”
“Then we’ll talk.”
“We’re talking now.”
His eyes moved to Vanessa.
“This woman has already caused enough damage.”
Vanessa laughed.
“You knew.”
Dad’s jaw tightened.
I looked at him.
“Knew what?”
“Emily.”
“Knew what?”
He rubbed his forehead.
“We should discuss this privately.”
“Was Ryan already married when he married me?”
Silence.
I felt something inside me die.
“Dad.”
He looked at me.
“Yes.”
I gripped the side of the bed.
Vanessa went still.
I whispered, “You knew.”
“I believed the divorce was final.”
“Did you verify it?”
“No.”
“You’re Thomas Harrison.”
My voice rose.
“You investigate contractors before they paint an office bathroom, but you didn’t check whether the man marrying your only daughter was already married?”
“Emily.”
“You knew.”
His face hardened.
“I knew there had been a marriage.”
“A marriage that still existed.”
“I was told it had been resolved.”
“By Ryan?”
“Yes.”
“And you believed him?”
Dad didn’t answer.
I laughed once.
“You’re lying.”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
“This.”
He pointed toward Vanessa.
“She is not your ally.”
Vanessa’s voice sharpened.
“Neither are you.”
Dad turned toward her.
“You have no idea what happened.”
“I know you paid Ryan.”
My father froze.
I looked between them.
“What?”
Vanessa held up her phone.
“I saw the transfers.”
Dad stepped toward her.
“Give me that phone.”
I blocked him.
“No.”
“Emily, move.”
“No.”
His expression changed.
I had never openly defied my father.
Not like this.
“Give me one reason I should trust you.”
He stared at me.
Finally, he said, “Because I’m your father.”
“That isn’t enough anymore.”
The words hurt both of us.
I saw it.
But he still didn’t tell me the truth.
So I turned to Vanessa.
“Show me the pictures.”
Dad’s voice cracked.
“Emily, don’t.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
His face had gone pale.
Vanessa found the first image.
A handwritten letter.
My mother’s handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
Dad,
I found another transfer connected to R.C. If you continue protecting him, I will go to the board myself.
I read it twice.
“R.C.”
Dad closed his eyes.
“Ryan Carter.”
Vanessa swiped.
Another letter.
Thomas,
You keep telling me Ryan can fix this. He is the reason this happened. I do not trust him, and I no longer trust your judgment where he is concerned.
My hands shook.
I looked at Dad.
“Why was Mom writing about Ryan before I met him?”
He said nothing.
Vanessa swiped again.
This image was not a letter.
It was a photograph.
My mother standing outside Harrison Development headquarters.
Beside her was Ryan.
Younger.
But unmistakably Ryan.
The date stamped on the bottom was eight years before our wedding.
My knees weakened.
“I never knew him.”
Dad whispered, “No.”
“Why?”
“Because I made sure you didn’t.”
“Why?”
He looked at me.
Then at Vanessa.
Then back at me.
“Because Ryan wasn’t supposed to become part of your life.”
I could barely breathe.
“But you introduced us.”
Dad’s eyes filled with something I had never seen there before.
Shame.
“I thought I could control him.”
I stared at him.
“You introduced me to a man you knew was dangerous because you thought you could control him?”
“I thought marriage would stabilize him.”
For a moment, I couldn’t understand the words.
Then I did.
“You used me.”
“No.”
“You gave me to him.”
“No!”
“You knew who he was.”
“I knew what he had done.”
“What had he done?”
Dad turned away.
I grabbed his arm.
“What had Ryan done?”
He looked at my hand.
Then at my face.
“Emily, please.”
“What did he do?”
His voice dropped.
“He found a weakness in our company.”
“What weakness?”
“A series of offshore transactions.”
“His transactions?”
Dad shook his head.
“No.”
“Then whose?”
He looked sick.
“Mine.”
The room went silent.
Dad sat in the chair I had knocked against the wall.
“Years ago, Harrison Development was close to collapsing.”
I stared at him.
“You told me the company never struggled.”
“I lied.”
“How bad?”
“Bad enough that thousands of people could have lost jobs.”
“So you moved money?”
“I borrowed money through entities I should never have used.”
“Illegal?”
His silence answered.
“Mom found out.”
“Yes.”
“And Ryan found out.”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“Blackmailed me.”
Vanessa whispered, “Oh my God.”
Dad continued.
“At first, he wanted money.”
“How much?”
“Millions.”
“And you paid.”
“Yes.”
“Then he married me.”
Dad covered his face.
“I never expected that.”
“You introduced us!”
“I wanted him close.”
I stared at him in disbelief.
“You thought marrying your daughter to your blackmailer was keeping him close?”
“I thought if he became part of the family, he would stop threatening us.”
“Us?”
I shouted.
“You mean you!”
Dad stood.
“I was protecting the company your grandfather built.”
“And Mom?”
His expression broke.
“What about Mom?”
I stepped closer.
“She was going to expose you, wasn’t she?”
“Yes.”
“And then she died.”
Dad’s face collapsed.
“Emily.”
The air left my lungs.
Cancer.
That was what I had been told.
Pancreatic cancer.
Fast.
Cruel.
Seven months from diagnosis to funeral.
I stared at him.
“Mom died of cancer.”
“Yes.”
I searched his face.
“Right?”
“Yes.”
But his answer came too quickly.
Vanessa suddenly looked at her phone.
“There’s another recording.”
Dad turned.
“What?”
She stared at the screen.
“I didn’t listen to all of them.”
“Play it.”
Dad moved toward her.
“No.”
I shouted, “Play it!”
Vanessa pressed the screen.
Static filled the small hospital bay.
Then my mother’s voice.
Weak.
Breathless.
But unmistakable.
“If anything happens to me, Thomas needs to tell Emily the truth.”
I grabbed the bed rail.
My mother continued.
“Ryan knows what Thomas did.”
A pause.
Then another voice.
Ryan.
Eight years younger.
“What exactly do you think you can prove, Margaret?”
My mother said, “Enough.”
Ryan laughed softly.
“You’re sick.”
“I’m still alive.”
“Not for long.”
My blood froze.
The recording ended.
Dad stared at the phone.
I stared at him.
“Why did Ryan say that?”
Dad’s eyes filled with tears.
“Because everyone knew she was dying.”
“Was that all?”
“Yes.”
I stepped closer.
“Was that all?”
He couldn’t answer.
Vanessa suddenly whispered, “There’s one more file.”
Dad turned toward her.
“What file?”
She looked at me.
“It’s labeled EMILY.”
“Play it.”
Dad lunged toward the phone.
I shoved myself between them.
“Dad!”
He stopped.
Vanessa pressed play.
This time Ryan spoke first.
“If Emily ever finds out, she’ll hate both of us.”
Then my father’s voice answered.
“She can never know what happened the night Margaret died.”
I looked at my father.
May you like
He looked twenty years older.
And for the first time in my life, I was afraid of him.
