Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN IN THE RECORDING
I didn't sleep.
Neither did Eliza.
At 4:17 in the morning, I sat at my desk with the loan agreement spread in front of me.
I photographed every page.
Then I photographed the notebook.
Then I photographed my father's letter.
I sent copies to a secure military email account I still maintained.
If someone took my phone, the evidence would survive.
At 5:30, I heard footsteps outside our bedroom.
Slow.
Careful.
Someone stopped at the door.
I reached underneath my pillow.
Not for a weapon.
For my phone.
The footsteps moved away.
I waited another minute.
Then I opened the door.
The hallway was empty.
I walked downstairs.
The kitchen was dark.
The pantry door was still open.
I stared at the floor where I had found my wife.
A small section of hair remained beneath the cabinet.
I crouched.
Something metallic was underneath the table.
A tiny silver object.
A memory card.
I picked it up.
“Eliza?”
She appeared behind me.
“What is it?”
“I don't know.”
We went back upstairs.
I inserted the card into my laptop.
There were twelve video files.
The first showed our kitchen.
Timestamp: three days earlier.
I watched.
My mother entered.
Brooke followed.
Then Evan Pierce.
He was carrying a black case.
They spoke quietly.
I increased the volume.
Brooke said, “If Nolan comes home early, we're finished.”
Mother replied, “He won't.”
Evan placed papers on the table.
Brooke looked at them.
“What if Eliza tells him?”
Mother's answer was cold.
“She won't.”
“She might.”
Mother stared at her.
“After tonight, she won't have anything left to say.”
I paused the video.
Eliza covered her mouth.
I felt something inside me crack.
I resumed playback.
Evan said, “The loan company wants payment.”
Mother answered, “You'll get it.”
Brooke looked nervous.
“You promised them the warehouse.”
“I know what I promised.”
“But the title isn't yours.”
Mother leaned forward.
“That's why Nolan has to sign.”
I stared at the screen.
They weren't trying to make Eliza pay.
They were trying to make me sign something.
The video continued.
Brooke asked, “What happens if he refuses?”
Mother's eyes hardened.
“Then we make him believe his wife betrayed him.”
My blood went cold.
“And if he still refuses?”
Mother looked at Brooke.
“Then we make him hate her.”
The screen went black.
I sat completely still.
Eliza whispered, “I told you.”
I looked at her.
“You knew this?”
“I suspected.”
“Why didn't you leave?”
She looked down.
“Because they threatened you.”
I closed my eyes.
She continued.
“Brooke told me the people she owed weren't ordinary lenders. She said if I went to the police, they would come after you while you were stationed away.”
I took her hand.
“You should have told me.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“You don't protect me by letting them hurt you.”
She began crying.
I pulled her against me.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Then my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice said:
“You need to stop digging.”
I stood.
“Who is this?”
“You came home early. That was unfortunate.”
“Who are you?”
“You have forty-eight hours to return the documents.”
“What documents?”
A pause.
“The ones your father left behind.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Eliza whispered, “Nolan?”
I turned.
“Someone knows we have the letter.”
A second message appeared.
You think your family is your enemy. You're wrong.
Then another.
Your sister isn't the one who borrowed the money.
I looked at Eliza.
“Then who did?”
The answer arrived seconds later.
A photograph.
My father.
Standing beside Evan Pierce.
And behind them was a woman I had never seen before.
May you like
On the back of the photograph was one handwritten sentence:
Ask Diane who she really is.
