Chapter 3 - The Woman on the PhoneEmily called the number back.
It went straight to voicemail.
She tried again.
Same result.
Ryan moved toward her.
“Give me the phone.”
Emily stepped behind Robert.
“Who is she?”
“Nobody.”
Robert laughed bitterly.
“Nobody who knows about a three-million-dollar trust?”
Ryan’s eyes narrowed.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Then enlighten us.”
Emily watched her husband.
She wanted him to deny everything.
Not angrily.
Not cleverly.
She wanted the man she had slept beside for five years to look at her and give her one explanation that made sense.
Instead, Ryan reached for his phone again.
“Give it back.”
“No.”
“It’s mine.”
Emily looked down.
She knew his passcode.
Or she used to.
Their anniversary.
She typed it.
Incorrect.
Ryan’s jaw tightened.
Emily tried Lily’s birthday.
Incorrect.
“Changed it recently?” Robert asked.
Ryan ignored him.
Emily tried Ryan’s own birthday.
The phone unlocked.
For a moment, no one spoke.
Ryan lunged.
Robert stepped between them.
“Don’t.”
Emily opened the messages.
Most of the thread had been deleted.
Only today’s three messages remained.
But the contact information wasn’t saved.
Emily copied the number onto one of the deed papers.
“What are you doing?”
“Making sure you can’t erase it.”
Ryan stared at her.
Then his expression softened again.
“Emily, we need to talk alone.”
“We’ve been alone enough.”
“That’s exactly the problem. Your father walks in after hiding your inheritance for almost a decade, hits me, and suddenly you trust him?”
The accusation struck where Ryan intended.
Emily looked at Robert.
Her father didn’t defend himself.
“I should’ve told you sooner,” he said.
“How much sooner?”
“Years.”
Emily swallowed.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because your mother asked me not to tell you the details until you were close to thirty.”
“Why?”
Robert hesitated.
Ryan jumped in.
“Because he wanted control.”
Robert’s head turned.
“No.”
“Then tell her.”
Robert looked at Emily.
“Your mother was scared.”
“Of what?”
“She had watched money destroy people in her family.”
Emily frowned.
Margaret rarely spoke about her childhood.
“She inherited land and investment accounts from your grandfather,” Robert continued. “Two of her brothers spent everything they received within five years. One died owing money everywhere.”
“And Mom thought I would do the same?”
“No. She thought grief could make people vulnerable.”
Robert looked at Ryan.
“She was right about that part.”
Ryan took a step forward.
“You don’t get to blame me for a dead woman’s paranoia.”
Emily raised her hand.
“Stop.”
Both men did.
She felt exhausted.
Wet hair clung to the back of her shirt.
Her cheek still smelled faintly of dishwater.
Lily whimpered.
Emily kissed the baby’s head.
“I’m leaving.”
Ryan immediately stiffened.
“No.”
“I’m going with Dad.”
“You’re not taking Lily.”
Emily’s heart accelerated.
Robert reached for his phone.
“Don’t make this worse.”
Ryan pointed toward him.
“You stay out of this.”
Then he looked at Emily.
“Em, I said I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t make me feel safe.”
His face twisted.
“For God’s sake, I didn’t beat you.”
Emily went still.
Robert’s expression became murderous.
Ryan heard himself too late.
Emily whispered, “That’s your defense?”
“I didn’t mean—”
“You’re right.”
She nodded slowly.
“You didn’t beat me.”
Ryan relaxed slightly.
Then Emily continued.
“You only held me by the neck while our daughter screamed and tried to push my face into a sink.”
His jaw clenched.
“You’re making it sound—”
“Exactly like what happened.”
Emily turned to Robert.
“Can you get Lily’s diaper bag?”
Robert nodded.
Ryan blocked the hallway.
“You walk out that door and don’t expect to come back.”
Emily stared at him.
Then she looked around the kitchen her mother had apparently owned all along.
“I’m beginning to think that won’t be your decision.”
She walked upstairs.
This time Ryan stayed below.
Emily packed quickly.
Lily’s clothes.
Formula.
Diapers.
Her laptop.
Two changes of clothes for herself.
Then she stood in front of the closet safe again.
She tried Ryan’s birthday.
Red light.
Their anniversary.
Red.
Lily’s birthday.
Red.
Four digits.
Emily thought about the message.
Eighteen days was all you had to wait.
Her birthday.
September seventh.
She typed it.
The safe beeped.
Green.
Emily stared.
The door clicked open.
For several seconds, she couldn’t move.
Then she pulled it open.
There was no emergency cash.
No tax documents.
There was a thick stack of papers.
A second cell phone.
Two passports.
A small flash drive.
A life insurance policy.
And a photograph.
Emily picked up the photo first.
Ryan stood outside a restaurant.
His arm was around a blonde woman Emily had never seen.
The date printed in the corner was four months earlier.
Emily felt nausea rise into her throat.
She picked up the insurance document.
Insured person:
Emily Margaret Carter.
Policy value:
$2,000,000.
Beneficiary:
Ryan Carter.
Her hands began shaking.
She had never seen it before.
She hadn’t signed it.
Then she noticed another document.
A durable power of attorney.
Her name appeared at the bottom.
Her signature.
Except it wasn’t hers.
Emily heard a floorboard creak behind her.
She turned.
Ryan stood in the bedroom doorway.
His face had gone white.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then his eyes dropped to the open safe.
“Emily.”
She backed away.
“What did you do?”
May you like
Ryan closed the bedroom door.
And locked it.
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