Chapter 8
Ryan had known.
Before he shoved me.
Before Diane slapped me.
Before I called my mother.
He knew investigators were getting close.
That changed everything.
Detective Torres returned to question Diane in person.
This time Diane talked.
Not because she was sorry.
Because she was scared.
“Ryan said Emily would take Grace and leave if she knew about the money,” Diane told investigators.
Torres looked at her.
“So you struck an eight-month-pregnant woman to stop her from leaving?”
Diane stared at the table.
“I lost my temper.”
“You threatened her baby afterward.”
“I was angry.”
“You also knew about Ryan’s affair.”
Diane’s mouth tightened.
“She was better for him.”
I watched from behind the observation glass.
Even now, Diane could not say my name without hatred.
Mom stood beside me.
“Do you want to leave?”
“No.”
I needed to hear everything.
Torres continued.
“Did you know Ryan had life insurance on Emily?”
“Yes.”
My stomach turned.
“Did you know the signature may have been forged?”
“No.”
“Did Ryan ever talk about Emily dying?”
Diane looked toward the glass.
She could not see me.
But somehow it felt like she knew I was there.
“Once.”
Torres leaned forward.
“What did he say?”
Diane whispered, “He said some problems solve themselves.”
I shut my eyes.
Mom’s hand found mine.
The interrogation lasted another hour.
By the end, Diane’s attorney stopped the interview.
But the damage was done.
Prosecutors now had financial fraud, domestic violence evidence, witness testimony, and recordings connecting Ryan to Mark.
Ryan changed his story the next morning.
He claimed Mark manipulated him.
He claimed Diane controlled him.
He claimed Laura misunderstood their relationship.
Then he claimed I had been emotionally abusive.
Each new lie contradicted the one before it.
But one thing still bothered me.
Why had Ryan kept recordings of Mark?
The answer came from Laura.
“He was planning to blackmail him.”
Torres looked at her.
“How do you know?”
“Ryan told me he was going to be rich soon.”
“From Emily’s trust?”
“No.”
Laura shook her head.
“He said someone owed him for keeping a secret.”
Mark.
Ryan had discovered something about my father’s death.
Instead of telling me, he had used it.
I sat beside Grace that evening.
She had gained three ounces.
The nurse called it progress.
To me, it felt like victory.
Mom watched me from the chair.
“What are you going to do when she comes home?”
I looked at her.
“I don’t have a home anymore.”
“Yes, you do.”
“I’m not going back to that house.”
“I didn’t mean Ryan’s house.”
I waited.
Mom smiled sadly.
“My place has six bedrooms.”
I laughed through tears.
“You want your thirty-year-old daughter and newborn granddaughter moving in?”
“I’ve wanted my daughter back for years.”
That hurt in a good way.
“I’ll think about it.”
“That means yes.”
“It means I’ll think about it.”
Grace made a tiny sound.
Both of us immediately leaned closer.
Then my phone rang.
Detective Torres.
I answered.
“We have a problem.”
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”
“Ryan has been transferred to the county detention center.”
“Okay.”
“During intake, he asked to make a statement.”
My mouth went dry.
“What kind of statement?”
“He says he has evidence your mother committed a felony.”
I looked at Rebecca.
She heard every word.
Her expression did not change.
“What evidence?” I asked.
Torres hesitated.
“He says five years ago, after your father died, your mother removed something from the crash scene before police arrived.”
I stared at Mom.
She looked away.
My heart sank.
“Is that true?”
Rebecca slowly stood.
“Yes.”
The room became silent except for the soft sounds of NICU machines.
“What did you take?”
My mother’s eyes filled with tears.
“A letter.”
“From Dad?”
She nodded.
“Why?”
“Because it was addressed to you.”
My chest tightened.
“Where is it?”
“At my house.”
I could barely speak.
“You kept my father’s last letter from me for five years?”
“Yes.”
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“Why?”
Mom whispered, “Because the first line said, ‘Emily, if you’re reading this, someone in our family tried to kill me.’”
