Chapter 27
I went back to the house two days later.
Not alone.
Never alone.
My father came.
Evelyn came.
Two officers came.
A locksmith came.
The air inside smelled like Lacey’s perfume.
I hated that.
My bedroom was destroyed.
Drawers open.
Jewelry missing.
My mother’s pearl comb gone from the vanity.
The crib box had been moved to the hallway like trash.
I stood there, one hand on my belly, and felt something hard settle inside me.
Damon had not wanted a wife.
He wanted a property transfer with a heartbeat.
In the closet, Evelyn found a locked suitcase.
The officers opened it.
Inside were passports.
Cash.
A burner phone.
And letters.
Not mine.
My mother’s.
My father went pale when he saw the handwriting.
“These were in her desk after she died,” he whispered. “I thought they were lost.”
I picked up the top letter.
Richard, if something happens, do not trust Martin. And if Clara ever marries a man who makes her small, tell her the truth sooner than you told me.
My knees weakened.
My father caught me.
I kept reading.
My mother had known about Martin.
Known about the stolen funds.
Known he had threatened her.
But there was another name.
A woman named Selene.
Martin’s fixer.
The person who arranged signatures, payments, silence.
At the bottom, my mother had written:
Selene has a daughter. Lacey.
The room stopped.
Lacey.
My husband’s mistress.
Not random.
Not new.
Connected to the woman who helped destroy my mother.
My father whispered, “No.”
Evelyn took the letter carefully.
“This links them.”
I thought of Lacey wearing my robe.
Smiling at me inside the kennel.
Relax. The dogs never complained.
She had not been enjoying an affair.
She had been finishing an old family war.
My phone buzzed from an unknown number.
A photo appeared.
My mother’s pearl comb lying on a table.
May you like
Then a message.
Tell Richard to stop digging, or the baby comes early.
