Chapter 4
I stared at the photograph.
Caleb looked exhausted.
His shirt was wrinkled.
A bruise darkened one cheek.
But he was looking directly into the camera.
Alive.
At least when the photograph was taken.
"How long have you had this?" I demanded.
Evelyn lowered her head.
"Four days."
Four days.
Four days of knowing her son might be in danger.
Four days of helping arrange her daughter's funeral.
Four days of watching me fall apart.
I struggled to control my voice.
"Why didn't you tell the police?"
"Daniel said Caleb would disappear permanently if I contacted anyone."
I shook my head.
"And you believed him?"
"He showed me that photograph."
Evelyn began trembling.
"He knew where Caleb lived. He knew his schedule. He knew everything."
I looked toward Nia's room.
"Your daughter was inside that coffin."
Evelyn covered her mouth.
"I didn't know she was alive."
"But you knew something was wrong."
She nodded.
Tears ran down her face.
"Yes."
That admission hurt more than I expected.
Evelyn had always been part of our lives.
She came to Sunday dinner.
She celebrated our anniversaries.
She called me her second son.
And yet she had stood beside Nia's coffin begging me not to open it.
"Why did you try to stop me?"
Her voice cracked.
"Because Daniel told me you would ruin everything."
"What everything?"
"Caleb's chance of coming home."
I looked away.
I wanted to hate her.
But the photograph in her hand showed a mother who had been manipulated through fear.
That didn't excuse what she did.
It only made the truth more painful.
I called Detective Brooks.
Evelyn agreed to speak with her.
For nearly two hours, she explained what had happened.
She said Daniel contacted her three days earlier.
He claimed Nia had suffered a fatal medical emergency.
Then he warned that Caleb had become involved in dangerous financial activity.
According to Daniel, Caleb owed money to people connected with the foundation.
If Evelyn caused trouble, those people would harm him.
Daniel sent the photograph as proof.
He told her not to contact Marcus until the funeral arrangements were complete.
I listened with growing disgust.
Daniel had used one child to silence a mother about the other.
Then Evelyn confessed something else.
"Nia gave me the blue envelope about two weeks ago."
Detective Brooks leaned forward.
"Where is it now?"
"My safe at home."
"Has Daniel had access to your home?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"He has a spare key."
I closed my eyes.
Of course he did.
Daniel had been helping Evelyn manage paperwork since her husband died.
He had made himself useful.
Trustworthy.
Almost indispensable.
Now I wondered whether any of it had been genuine.
Detective Brooks arranged to secure the relevant evidence through the proper process.
I wasn't allowed to accompany the investigators.
Instead, I remained with Nia.
When I entered her room, she looked up.
"Was that Mom?"
I nodded.
Her expression changed.
"Did she explain?"
"Some of it."
Nia turned toward the window.
"She knew something."
I sat beside her.
"She says Daniel threatened Caleb."
Nia looked back sharply.
"Caleb?"
I showed her the photograph with Evelyn's permission.
Nia gasped.
"Oh, my God."
She reached for it.
Her fingers shook.
"That's my brother."
"I know."
She began crying.
"I told him to stay away from Daniel."
I froze.
"What?"
Nia looked at me.
"Caleb used to work for the foundation."
I stared at her.
"Why didn't I know?"
"Because he left after an argument."
"What argument?"
Nia swallowed.
"He said Daniel was stealing money."
The room seemed to tilt.
"How long ago?"
"Three months."
I leaned closer.
"Did Caleb show you proof?"
"He tried."
She wiped her eyes.
"I thought he was angry because Daniel fired him."
I felt a terrible sadness.
Caleb had tried to warn his sister.
She hadn't believed him.
Then she'd discovered the truth herself.
And Daniel had moved against both of them.
That evening, Detective Brooks called.
Investigators had recovered the blue envelope from Evelyn's safe.
Inside were printed bank transactions, copies of housing assistance applications, and a handwritten list of names.
Families.
Dozens of them.
People who had applied for emergency housing help.
Some had received assistance.
Others hadn't.
But the records suggested money had been reported as spent on families who never received it.
Nia had found discrepancies totaling hundreds of thousands of dollars.
My stomach twisted.
Daniel hadn't just been stealing from a business.
He had been taking money meant for desperate people.
Mothers with children.
Elderly tenants.
Families escaping unsafe homes.
People who trusted the foundation because they had nowhere else to go.
I thought of the expensive car Daniel drove.
His tailored suits.
His luxury apartment.
Then I thought of those families.
"Is that enough to arrest him?" I asked.
"Financial records are one part of the investigation. We're still verifying them."
I understood.
But waiting felt unbearable.
The next morning, I went home to shower and collect clothes for Nia.
Our bedroom looked exactly as she'd left it.
Her slippers beside the bed.
Her favorite sweater hanging over a chair.
A half-read novel on the nightstand.
I picked up the book.
And a folded piece of paper slipped from between its pages.
At first, I thought it was a bookmark.
Then I recognized Nia's handwriting.
Marcus, if something happens to me, please don't trust the official story.
My hands went cold.
The note continued.
I found out Daniel has someone helping him inside the foundation.
Someone I never suspected.
I read the final line.
May you like
And felt my knees weaken.
The person helping him has been coming to our house.
