Chapter 4
I couldn't move.
My six-year-old daughter was looking at me with tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Somebody fixed Daddy's car?"
Lily nodded.
I gently held her shoulders.
"Sweetheart, where did you hear that?"
She pointed toward the hallway.
"Grandpa's office."
My father stood behind us.
His face had gone completely white.
I turned slowly.
"Arthur."
He shook his head.
"Nia, she misunderstood."
I stared at him.
"Then tell me what she heard."
He looked toward Vanessa.
That glance made my stomach twist.
Vanessa immediately stepped backward.
"I didn't say anything!"
I looked between them.
"Why would you think I'm talking about you?"
She opened her mouth.
Then closed it.
My mother began sobbing.
"Please, everybody, stop."
I stood.
"No."
For years, I'd been the daughter who kept the peace.
The one who apologized first.
The one who let Vanessa make cruel jokes at family dinners.
The one who never questioned Dad because he was supposedly the wisest person in the room.
But my husband was dead.
My daughter had bruises on her arm.
And the people I trusted most were hiding something about both.
I called 911.
The dispatcher answered.
I explained that my daughter had been assaulted and that I'd discovered possible financial crimes connected to my late husband's death.
My voice shook.
But I kept talking.
The dispatcher asked whether anyone was in immediate danger.
I looked toward Vanessa.
She was standing near the hallway entrance.
Her jacket hung from one hand.
Her face was pale.
"Not right now," I answered.
I took Lily into the kitchen and stayed beside her while we waited.
Nobody spoke.
Then my mother approached.
"Nia, please let me explain."
I looked at her.
"Did you know Daniel was being threatened?"
She began crying.
"Not until after he died."
I felt sick.
"Then why didn't you tell me?"
She whispered, "Arthur said the situation was being handled."
I stared at her.
"Handled?"
She looked away.
I could barely stand the sight of her.
My mother had watched me collapse at Daniel's funeral.
She held me while I cried through the night.
She saw me struggle to explain death to our daughter.
And all that time, she knew he'd been investigating my father's business.
I pulled Lily closer.
"Don't touch me right now."
Mom stepped backward.
Her face crumpled.
But I couldn't comfort her.
Not anymore.
When officers arrived, I handed them my phone and explained what happened.
One officer spoke gently with Lily.
Another separated the adults.
I showed them the security footage.
The officer watched Vanessa grab my daughter.
His expression hardened.
He asked whether Lily needed medical attention.
I said yes.
I wanted every mark documented.
Vanessa immediately started protesting.
"I barely touched her!"
The officer remained calm.
"Ma'am, we'll need to speak with you separately."
She looked at me.
"Nia, don't do this."
I stared at her.
"You did this."
Then I turned away.
At the hospital, a nurse examined Lily's arm.
The marks were painful but fortunately not serious.
The doctor recommended monitoring her discomfort and speaking with a child specialist if the fear continued.
I agreed immediately.
Lily sat on the examination bed, clutching her rabbit.
I sat beside her.
"Baby, I need to ask you something."
She looked up.
"When Aunt Vanessa grabbed you, what were you holding?"
"The black thing."
"Did Grandpa give it to you?"
She shook her head.
"I found it."
"Where?"
She looked down.
"Under his desk."
I frowned.
"Why were you in his office?"
She played with the rabbit's ear.
"I was looking for my blue crayon."
My heart tightened.
Earlier that afternoon, Lily had been drawing at the coffee table.
One of her crayons rolled down the hallway.
She must have followed it.
I stroked her hair.
"Did you see anyone else in Grandpa's office?"
She nodded.
"Aunt Vanessa."
My stomach twisted.
"What was she doing?"
"She had papers."
I waited.
Lily looked frightened.
"She was putting them in a bag."
I swallowed.
"Did she say anything?"
Lily nodded.
"She told Grandpa the police would find everything."
My heart started pounding.
I kept my voice soft.
"What did Grandpa say?"
Lily stared at her rabbit.
"He said the garage man wouldn't talk."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
The garage man.
Daniel's car.
Someone had supposedly fixed it.
I kissed Lily's forehead.
"Thank you for telling me."
She looked up.
"Are you mad?"
I hugged her.
"Not at you, sweetheart."
She began crying.
"I thought Aunt Vanessa would take me away."
My heart broke.
"She can't."
I held her tighter.
"Mommy won't let that happen."
Later, a detective arrived at the hospital.
Her name was Angela Brooks.
She was in her early forties, with a calm voice and serious eyes.
I told her everything.
The video.
The money.
The fake affair.
Lily's statements.
And my concerns about Daniel's accident.
Detective Brooks listened carefully.
Then she asked whether I still had the original USB drive.
I nodded.
"Yes."
"We'll need to preserve it properly."
I handed it over after she explained how the evidence would be collected.
She also asked about the security system.
I told her the recordings were stored online.
She arranged for the relevant files to be preserved before anyone could delete them.
Then she asked about Daniel's car.
"What happened to the vehicle after the accident?"
I swallowed.
"My father handled everything."
Detective Brooks looked up.
"Do you know where it was taken?"
"No."
I felt sick.
"Arthur said it was destroyed."
She wrote something down.
"Did you receive any documentation?"
I shook my head.
"I signed insurance paperwork."
"Do you have copies?"
"At home."
She nodded.
"Please preserve them."
I stared at her.
"Do you think somebody killed my husband?"
Her expression softened.
"I can't tell you that yet."
My eyes filled.
"But what you've shared raises questions that deserve investigation."
I nodded.
That was all I needed.
Someone willing to ask questions.
Someone who wouldn't tell me to stay quiet.
That evening, Lily fell asleep in my arms.
I carried her to the car and buckled her into her seat.
Then I drove straight home.
For the first time in months, I was grateful Daniel had insisted we keep our own house instead of moving into my parents' estate.
I locked the doors.
Turned on the security system.
And carried Lily upstairs.
Then my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
But something made me answer.
A man spoke.
"Mrs. Carter?"
"Yes."
"My name is Raymond Ellis."
I frowned.
"Do I know you?"
He hesitated.
"I worked at the garage that inspected your husband's car."
My heart stopped.
I gripped the phone.
"What do you want?"
His voice trembled.
"I've been trying to reach you for months."
I couldn't breathe.
"Why?"
He paused.
Then whispered, "Because I know what happened to Daniel's brakes."
May you like
I stood completely still.
And suddenly, the nightmare I'd been living began to look much worse.
