Chapter 7
Daniel drove us straight to Worcester.
I sat in the passenger seat with my hands locked around my phone.
“What did he mean?” I asked.
Daniel’s jaw was tight.
“I don’t know.”
“My father sold that garage.”
“I handled some probate, but not the sale.”
I turned to him.
“What?”
“I was deployed when Dad got sick. Mark helped with paperwork.”
The words landed like stones.
Mark helped.
Of course he had.
My father never trusted him, but near the end, Dad was tired, thin, and in pain.
Mark brought soup.
Mark drove him to appointments.
Mark smiled and called him “sir.”
When we reached Hayes Auto Repair, my breath caught.
The old sign was still there.
Faded blue letters.
Hayes Auto Repair.
Closed, but not sold.
A chain hung across the front gate.
Daniel got out first.
I followed.
The September air smelled like rain and motor oil.
My father’s office window was boarded from inside.
Daniel checked public records on his phone.
His face changed.
“Emma.”
“What?”
“The property is still in Dad’s trust.”
I gripped the fence.
“No. Mark said it sold.”
“Money from the supposed sale went into your down payment, right?”
“Yes.”
Daniel’s thumb moved fast.
“Then where did that money come from?”
A truck pulled up behind us.
An older man climbed out.
“Can I help you?”
I recognized him after a second.
“Mr. Coleman?”
He stared at me.
“Emma Hayes?”
I almost cried.
He had owned the tire shop next door when I was little.
He walked toward the fence.
“Haven’t seen you since your dad’s funeral.”
“I thought the garage was sold.”
His expression darkened.
“Your husband told everyone you wanted it empty.”
“My husband?”
“Said you couldn’t stand looking at it. Said he was managing it for you.”
Daniel stepped closer.
“Managing what?”
Mr. Coleman looked from him to me.
“The rentals.”
My stomach dropped.
“What rentals?”
He pointed behind the garage.
“Storage bays. Your dad leased them to contractors. Still do, far as I know.”
Daniel’s face went pale with anger.
Mark had been collecting money from my father’s property for six years.
Money that should have gone to me.
To Lily.
To the house.
To the life I kept thinking I was failing to afford.
Mr. Coleman unlocked the side gate with a key.
“Your dad gave me this in case of trouble.”
Inside the office, dust coated everything.
But the file cabinet was gone.
So was the safe.
Only one framed photo remained on the wall.
Me at sixteen, covered in grease, standing beside Dad.
Under the frame, a small envelope had been taped to the back.
Daniel found it when he lifted the picture.
My name was written across the front.
Emma.
Inside was a letter.
My hands shook as I unfolded it.
If Mark ever tells you I sold the garage, he is lying.
I covered my mouth.
Daniel read over my shoulder.
The letter continued.
I moved the original trust papers to a safe deposit box. Mark asked too many questions. Diane asked about your inheritance twice. I do not trust that family near what belongs to you.
My eyes blurred.
At the bottom, Dad had written one more line.
If I am gone and they come for the house, start with Rachel. She notarized something for Mark before.
Daniel cursed under his breath.
The date on the letter was three weeks before Dad died.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Daniel said, “Don’t answer.”
But I did.
May you like
A distorted voice whispered, “You should have stayed out of the garage.”
Then glass shattered in the back room.
