Chapter 1
"MOM?! WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?"
My suitcase slipped from my hand and crashed against the marble floor.
I stood frozen in the entrance of my mansion, staring at the enormous funeral memorial displayed beneath the chandelier.
White roses surrounded a framed photograph of my mother.
Dozens of candles flickered beside her smiling face.
A black ribbon hung across the portrait.
And underneath it were the words that made my heart nearly stop.
IN LOVING MEMORY OF EVELYN CARTER.
I couldn't breathe.
My mother was supposed to be missing.
Not dead.
Not lying in some cemetery.
Not remembered through flowers and photographs while I stood there wearing the same cream designer shirt I'd worn to my wedding.
My name is Marcus Carter.
I was thirty-three years old, a self-made millionaire, and the owner of a successful real estate development company in Atlanta.
Yesterday, I married the woman I believed I would spend the rest of my life with.
Vanessa Bennett.
She was twenty-nine, beautiful, ambitious, and everything I thought I wanted in a wife.
We had celebrated our wedding at an extravagant lakeside resort.
There were hundreds of guests, expensive champagne, live music, and flowers imported from overseas.
I had spent nearly half a million dollars on the celebration.
But the one person I wanted beside me wasn't there.
My mother.
Evelyn Carter.
She had disappeared twelve days before the wedding.
Vanessa told me Mom had left after an argument and didn't want to speak to anyone.
I had called her countless times.
I had contacted her friends.
I had even filed a missing-person report after Vanessa insisted Mom was simply being dramatic.
Nothing made sense.
And now I was standing in front of a memorial inside my own home.
"Vanessa?"
My voice came out barely above a whisper.
My new wife stood behind me holding two luxury shopping bags.
Her beautiful white dress shimmered beneath the chandelier.
But her face had turned pale.
"Marcus..."
I slowly turned.
"What is this?"
She swallowed.
"Baby, please don't get upset."
I stared at her.
"Don't get upset?"
I pointed toward the portrait.
"THAT IS MY MOTHER!"
Vanessa flinched.
"I know."
"You told me she disappeared."
"She did."
"Then why is there a funeral memorial in my house?"
She looked toward the staircase.
For the first time since I had known her, she appeared completely unsure of what to say.
"I can explain."
I stepped closer.
"Then start explaining."
She opened her mouth.
But another voice answered from behind us.
"Yes, Vanessa."
The voice was weak.
Familiar.
Impossible.
"Explain why you told everyone I was dead."
My entire body went cold.
I turned toward the hallway.
A woman stood beside the open library door.
She wore a black cardigan over a pale dress.
Her long straight hair fell loosely around her shoulders.
There were bruises along her cheek and beneath one eye.
She looked thinner than I remembered.
Exhausted.
But alive.
My mother.
"Mom?"
Her lips trembled.
"Hello, baby."
I couldn't move.
For twelve days, I had imagined terrible things.
I had searched hospitals.
Called relatives.
Driven past her house in the middle of the night.
I had begged God to let me hear her voice one more time.
And now she was standing twenty feet away.
"Mom!"
I ran toward her.
She opened her arms.
I wrapped mine around her carefully, terrified that I might hurt her.
She began crying against my chest.
"My boy."
I couldn't stop shaking.
"Where were you?"
She held me tighter.
"I tried to come home."
I pulled back.
That's when I saw the bruising more clearly.
My heart dropped.
"Who did this to you?"
Mom looked past my shoulder.
Directly at Vanessa.
"Ask your wife."
I turned.
Vanessa had taken several steps toward the front door.
Her handbag was already hanging from her shoulder.
"Vanessa."
She froze.
My mother raised her hand.
"Don't let her leave."
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"Evelyn, you don't understand what you're doing."
Mom looked at her.
"I understand perfectly."
Then she reached inside her cardigan.
She removed a small black envelope.
"I kept everything."
I stared at it.
"Everything what?"
Mom's eyes filled.
"The messages. The documents. The recording."
Vanessa suddenly stepped forward.
"Give me that!"
I moved between them.
"Stay away from my mother."
She stared at me.
"Marcus, please. You don't understand."
I looked at her.
"Then tell me why my mother has bruises."
Vanessa began shaking.
Before she could answer, the front doors opened.
Three police officers entered.
The lead officer, a tall Black woman in her forties, stepped forward.
"Vanessa Bennett?"
My wife turned toward her.
"Yes?"
"I'm Detective Angela Brooks with the Atlanta Police Department."
Vanessa's face went white.
"We need you to remain here while we execute a warrant and address serious allegations connected to Evelyn Carter's disappearance."
I stared at the detective.
A warrant?
My mother's disappearance?
My new wife?
Nothing made sense.
Vanessa looked at me desperately.
"Marcus, don't let them do this."
I didn't move.
Detective Brooks looked toward Mom.
"Mrs. Carter, do you have the evidence you told us about?"
Mom nodded.
She handed over the black envelope.
"The recording is inside."
Vanessa began crying.
"Marcus, please."
I looked at her.
For the first time, the woman I had married seemed like a complete stranger.
Detective Brooks opened the envelope carefully.
Inside was a small digital recorder.
She checked the label and held it up.
Mom gripped my arm.
I looked down at her.
"Mom, what happened?"
She stared at Vanessa.
Then she whispered, "She wasn't trying to keep me away from your wedding."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
May you like
Mom's voice broke.
"She was trying to make sure I never came back."
