Chapter 4
I stared at the photograph until my eyes began to hurt.
My uncle.
My almost-wife.
And the developer who wanted my family's land.
All together.
Six weeks before my wedding.
The worst part wasn't that they knew each other.
It was the ease of their smiles.
They looked comfortable.
Like people who had been working together for a long time.
"Where did this photograph come from?" I asked.
Daniel clicked on the file information.
"A public charity event. Raymond attended as a guest of Victor Hayes."
I studied Raymond's face.
He had grown older, but I recognized the same narrow eyes and sharp jaw from the photographs Mom kept hidden in an old box.
I hadn't seen him since my father's funeral.
Back then, he wore expensive suits and drove a luxury car.
I remembered him standing in our living room, speaking harshly to my mother.
I remembered her crying after he left.
I never understood why.
Now I did.
"Why would Nia involve herself with him?" I asked.
Daniel closed his laptop.
"Money is the obvious possibility. But we need evidence before drawing conclusions."
Andre crossed his arms.
"She tried to get Marcus to sign over authority. That's not exactly innocent."
"No," Daniel agreed. "But proving intent is another matter."
Mom looked exhausted.
I wanted to take her home.
Instead, she reached across the desk.
"Marcus, there is something else."
I looked at her.
She hesitated.
"Your father kept a journal."
I blinked.
"A journal?"
"Yes."
"Where is it?"
"At home. In his old toolbox."
I had seen that toolbox hundreds of times.
It sat in the garage, covered by a faded cloth.
Mom refused to throw it away.
She said it reminded her of Dad.
I never questioned it.
Now I wondered what else I had overlooked.
We left Daniel's office and drove directly to Mom's house.
Andre followed in his truck.
When we arrived, something felt wrong.
The front gate was open.
Mom always closed it.
Always.
I parked quickly.
"Stay in the car."
But she was already reaching for her seat belt.
"Marcus, what is it?"
I looked toward the house.
The front door was slightly ajar.
My pulse raced.
I called 911.
Then I told Mom to wait with Andre.
Two patrol officers arrived minutes later and checked the property.
Nobody was inside.
But someone had been there.
The living room drawers were open.
Cabinet doors hung crooked.
Family photographs were scattered across the floor.
And the garage had been completely searched.
Mom entered behind me.
She gasped.
"My home."
I put my arm around her.
The officers began documenting the damage.
There were no obvious signs of forced entry.
That frightened me more than anything.
Someone might have used a key.
I walked into the garage.
Dad's toolbox was gone.
I felt my stomach twist.
"They took it."
Mom covered her mouth.
"No."
Andre joined us.
"Was there anything valuable inside?"
I turned toward him.
"The journal."
His expression darkened.
One of the officers asked for a list of missing property.
Mom looked around.
Then she noticed something.
"The photograph."
"What photograph?" I asked.
She pointed toward an empty frame on the shelf.
It had held a picture of Dad and Raymond standing beside a construction site.
The photograph was gone.
Nothing else valuable appeared to be missing.
Not the television.
Not Mom's jewelry.
Not even the cash she kept in a kitchen drawer.
Whoever entered the house had been looking for something specific.
The officers took our statements.
They advised Mom not to stay alone until the locks were changed.
I told her she would stay with me.
She didn't argue.
That alone told me how frightened she was.
Later that evening, I drove her to my house.
The home I had planned to share with Nia.
Her wedding gifts were still arranged in the living room.
A framed engagement photograph stood on the mantel.
I picked it up.
Nia's smile looked beautiful.
I had once believed it was genuine.
Now I wasn't sure which parts of our relationship had been real.
I placed the photograph face down.
Mom watched from the doorway.
"You don't have to erase every happy memory tonight."
I shook my head.
"I'm not erasing anything. I'm finally seeing it clearly."
I made her tea.
Then I carried her overnight bag upstairs.
When I returned, my doorbell rang.
It was close to nine.
I checked the security camera.
Nia stood on the porch.
Still wearing her wedding gown.
Her veil was gone.
Her makeup had been repaired.
She looked almost peaceful.
I opened the door but stayed in the doorway.
"What are you doing here?"
She looked past me.
"Is your mother inside?"
"Why?"
Her eyes narrowed.
"I want to apologize."
I didn't believe her.
But before I could answer, Mom appeared behind me.
"It's all right, Marcus."
I turned.
"Mom, you don't have to—"
"I'd like to hear what she has to say."
Nia stepped forward.
I blocked her path.
"You can speak from there."
For a moment, anger flashed across her face.
Then she lowered her eyes.
"Evelyn, I'm sorry."
Mom remained silent.
"I was overwhelmed. The wedding, the guests, everything. I said something cruel."
I watched Nia carefully.
She was choosing every word.
"I never should have embarrassed you."
Mom nodded.
"Thank you for saying that."
Nia looked at me.
"See? We can move past this."
I felt anger rising.
"An apology doesn't erase what happened."
"I know."
"Then why are you here?"
She reached into her purse.
"I came to return something."
She held up a small velvet box.
Inside was my wedding band.
The one she had planned to place on my finger during the ceremony.
"I thought you might want it."
I stared at the ring.
Then I looked at her.
"Nia, did you go to my mother's house today?"
Her face changed instantly.
"What?"
"Someone broke in."
She blinked.
"Oh my God."
"Did you know?"
"No!"
Her answer came too quickly.
I stepped closer.
"Then explain your relationship with Raymond Bennett."
Nia's hand trembled.
The ring box slipped from her fingers.
It hit the porch with a soft thud.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Finally, she whispered, "Marcus, please don't do this."
"Answer me."
She shook her head.
"You don't understand."
"Then help me understand."
Tears appeared in her eyes.
"Victor told me Raymond was helping with an investment."
"What investment?"
She looked toward my mother.
Then she whispered, "Your father's land."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
"What did you promise them?"
She wiped her cheeks.
"I didn't know it would go this far."
Mom stepped forward.
"What did you do, Nia?"
Nia began shaking.
"Raymond said Marcus would eventually sign everything. He told me it was only a business arrangement."
My voice hardened.
"How much were they paying you?"
She stared at the floor.
"Nia."
"Two million dollars."
The words seemed to hang in the air.
Mom gasped.
I couldn't move.
Two million dollars.
That was the price Nia had placed on my trust.
On my family.
On the future I thought we were building together.
I stepped backward.
"Get off my property."
"Marcus—"
"Now."
She began crying harder.
But I no longer knew whether those tears were real.
Before she turned away, she grabbed my arm.
"There's something you need to know."
I pulled free.
"What?"
Her face was pale.
"Raymond isn't the one in charge."
I stared at her.
"Who is?"
She looked toward the street.
A black SUV was parked across from my house.
Its headlights flashed once.
Nia went silent.
Then she whispered, "I shouldn't have come here."
She hurried down the driveway.
I watched her climb into the SUV.
As it pulled away, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number had sent a message.
"Tell your mother to stop talking about the past. Some family secrets should stay buried."
Attached was a photograph.
Taken less than a minute earlier.
It showed my mother standing behind me in the doorway.
May you like
Someone had been watching us.
And now they wanted us to know.
