Chapter 3
I stared at Emma’s drawing until the colors blurred.
“Baby.”
She looked nervous.
“Am I in trouble?”
“No.”
I forced my voice steady.
“Never.”
I pointed at the picture.
“When did you see this?”
Emma whispered:
“Last week.”
“Daddy kissed Aunt Rachel?”
She nodded.
My heart seemed to tear straight down the middle.
“Where?”
“In the garage.”
“Did they see you?”
Her eyes filled.
“Aunt Rachel did.”
Every instinct inside me sharpened.
“What happened?”
“She told Daddy.”
“And then?”
“Daddy got mad.”
“At you?”
Emma nodded.
“What did he say?”
“He said I wasn’t supposed to spy.”
I stood so fast the chair scraped backward.
Emma flinched.
I immediately crouched.
“I’m not mad at you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
I kissed her forehead.
“You did nothing wrong.”
The door opened.
Mark entered carrying a stuffed bear.
“Hey, kiddo.”
I stood between them.
His smile disappeared.
“What’s wrong?”
“Outside.”
“Claire—”
“Now.”
We entered the hallway.
I shoved the drawing against his chest.
He looked at it.
His face drained.
“How long?”
I asked.
He said nothing.
“How long have you been sleeping with my sister?”
“It isn’t—”
I slapped him.
The sound echoed down the hall.
A nurse looked over.
I didn’t care.
“How long?”
Mark lowered his voice.
“Six months.”
My stomach twisted.
“While you were gambling away our money?”
“It wasn’t like that.”
“Was Emma poisoned because she saw you?”
“No.”
“Did you take her cup into the garage?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
His eyes darted around.
“Because I was hiding something for her birthday.”
“What?”
He rubbed his face.
“A necklace.”
“Where is it?”
“At home.”
“Show me.”
“Claire.”
“Show me the necklace.”
He said nothing.
I laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“You cannot even produce the lie.”
He grabbed my wrist.
“Listen to me.”
I pulled free.
“Don’t touch me.”
“I did not poison Emma.”
“You had her cup.”
“I took it because Rachel told me Emma had seen us.”
My skin went cold.
“Why did that require taking her drink?”
“I wanted to talk to her privately.”
“You took a seven-year-old into a garage because she caught you cheating?”
“I wasn’t going to hurt her.”
“But somebody did.”
Mark looked toward Emma’s room.
Then he whispered:
“Rachel.”
“What?”
“I think Rachel did it.”
“You stood beside her while she made the drink.”
“No. I left.”
“I know.”
His eyes widened.
“Police have footage.”
He stared at me.
I continued.
“Why do you think Rachel drugged Emma?”
Mark swallowed.
“She was afraid.”
“Of a child?”
“Of losing everything.”
I almost laughed.
“She was sleeping with my husband. What exactly was she worried about losing?”
“Me.”
The word hit like another betrayal.
Mark looked ashamed.
“She wanted me to leave you.”
“And you?”
“I kept telling her I couldn’t.”
“Because you loved me?”
He stayed silent.
There was my answer.
“Because I controlled the money.”
“That’s not fair.”
“You stole three hundred thousand dollars from me.”
“I was desperate.”
“And Rachel gave you more.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She thought once I cleared my debts, we could start over.”
I stared.
“So my sister financed your affair.”
“It wasn’t that simple.”
“It sounds incredibly simple.”
Mark stepped closer.
“Rachel became angry when I said I wouldn’t leave until after Emma’s birthday.”
My heart stopped.
“Why after?”
“I didn’t want to ruin Emma’s party.”
“You already ruined her family.”
He closed his eyes.
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
I thought about Rachel standing by the sink.
That tiny look of satisfaction.
“Did Rachel know Emma saw you?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“The day before the party.”
A horrifying thought formed.
“Did she say anything about Emma?”
Mark hesitated.
“What?”
“Tell me.”
“She said kids forget things.”
My body went cold.
“What exactly did she say?”
“She said if Emma was scared enough, confused enough, maybe she wouldn’t keep repeating what she saw.”
I couldn’t believe him.
“Did she threaten my daughter?”
“No.”
“That sounds like a threat.”
“I told her never to speak about Emma like that again.”
“But you still brought her into my house.”
His face collapsed.
“Yes.”
I turned away.
Detective Harris found me ten minutes later.
I gave him the drawing.
Then I told him about the affair.
He did not look surprised.
“You knew.”
“We suspected.”
“How?”
“Messages recovered from Mark’s phone.”
I stared.
“What messages?”
He handed me a printed transcript.
Rachel:
You said after the party.
Mark:
I can’t do this right now.
Rachel:
She knows.
Mark:
She’s seven.
Rachel:
Seven-year-olds talk.
Mark:
Leave Emma alone.
Rachel:
Then choose.
My hands shook.
“That’s enough to arrest her.”
“Not for poisoning.”
“What more do you need?”
“Evidence.”
I wanted to scream.
Then Harris showed me another message.
Sent at 3:51 p.m. on Emma’s birthday.
Mark:
Where is it?
Rachel:
Safe.
Mark:
Give it back.
Rachel:
You don’t get to make demands anymore.
“What were they talking about?” I asked.
“We don’t know.”
Mark claimed it was money.
Rachel claimed it was jewelry.
Neither explanation satisfied police.
That night, officers searched Rachel’s apartment.
They found no sedative.
But they found something else.
A storage box containing dozens of printed financial records.
My bank statements.
Mark’s gambling transfers.
Copies of my inheritance documents.
And a life insurance policy.
Emma’s life insurance policy.
I didn’t even know it existed.
The beneficiary was Mark.
The policy had been opened eight months earlier.
The signature approving it looked like mine.
It wasn’t.
“Who created this?” I asked Harris.
“We’re tracing the application.”
“How much?”
“Five hundred thousand dollars.”
My stomach turned.
“Mark forged my signature?”
“It appears someone did.”
“Why insure Emma?”
Harris did not answer.
He didn’t have to.
I went straight to Mark.
“You insured our daughter.”
His eyes widened.
“What?”
“Five hundred thousand dollars.”
“I never—”
“Stop lying.”
“I didn’t!”
“The beneficiary is you.”
“I swear to God, Claire, I didn’t know.”
“Then who did?”
His expression shifted.
Rachel.
I saw the answer before he said it.
“She handled insurance paperwork.”
“What paperwork?”
“When I borrowed money.”
I stared.
“She made me sign documents.”
“You didn’t read them?”
“No.”
“You gave my sister signed forms without reading them?”
“I was drowning.”
“That isn’t an excuse.”
He covered his face.
Then he said something that changed the direction of everything.
“Rachel wasn’t lending me her money.”
I froze.
“What?”
“The eighty thousand.”
He looked terrified.
“It wasn’t hers.”
“Whose was it?”
“Malcolm’s.”
I stepped back.
“How does Rachel know Malcolm?”
Mark’s voice dropped.
“Because they were partners.”
“In what?”
May you like
He looked at me.
“Blackmail.”
