Chapter 2
I stood in the bedroom holding the photograph of my dead husband while Vanessa stared at me as though I had uncovered a grave.
"What happened that night?" I demanded.
She shook her head.
"Evelyn, please."
"Don't say my name like we're friends."
Marcus stepped between us.
"Vanessa, answer her."
His voice had changed.
The hesitation from the front door was gone.
Now he sounded like the little boy I remembered whenever he discovered someone had lied to him.
"Why were you at a hotel with my father?"
Vanessa pressed her fingers against her temples.
"It wasn't what you're thinking."
"Then tell us what it was."
She looked toward the hallway.
"Not here."
I laughed bitterly.
"You threw me out of this house five minutes ago. You don't get to decide where we have this conversation."
Marcus reached for the photograph.
I handed it to him.
He studied Arthur's face.
Then the hotel name.
Then the date.
"I remember this week," he whispered.
I turned toward him.
"What?"
"Dad told me he was going to Birmingham for a medical consultation."
I stared at him.
"He told me he had an appointment in Atlanta."
Marcus looked at Vanessa.
"Why were you with him?"
She began crying.
I had seen Vanessa cry before.
At our family dinners.
When Marcus forgot an anniversary.
When someone challenged her decisions.
Her tears usually arrived whenever she was losing an argument.
I no longer knew which emotions were genuine.
"Arthur asked me to meet him," she said.
"Why?" Marcus demanded.
"Because he needed help."
"With what?"
She hesitated.
I raised the photograph.
"Was he having an affair with you?"
Her face twisted.
"No!"
The answer came quickly.
Too quickly.
Marcus stared at her.
"Then why is your hand on his chest?"
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
"Because he was upset."
"About what?"
She shook her head.
"I can't explain everything."
I felt my anger rise.
"You can, and you will."
Instead of answering, Vanessa reached for the photograph again.
Marcus pulled it away.
"Stop."
She froze.
He looked at the necklace around her throat.
"Is that Mom's?"
Vanessa touched it.
"No."
I stepped closer.
"Arthur gave that necklace to me on our fortieth anniversary."
Her expression faltered.
"It was a gift."
"From whom?"
She swallowed.
"Arthur."
The room went silent.
I felt something inside my chest collapse.
I remembered the night Arthur gave me that necklace.
We were sitting in our kitchen after a small anniversary dinner.
He had saved for months to buy it.
He told me the diamonds reminded him of the first snowfall we watched together after getting married.
I cried when he fastened it around my neck.
And now my daughter-in-law was wearing it.
"Why would my husband give you my necklace?" I whispered.
Vanessa couldn't answer.
Marcus looked physically sick.
"Take it off."
She stared at him.
"Marcus—"
"Take it off."
Her hands trembled as she unclasped the necklace.
She placed it on the dresser.
I couldn't touch it.
Not yet.
It felt contaminated by secrets.
Marcus turned toward me.
"Mom, sit down."
I shook my head.
"I'm fine."
But I wasn't.
My legs felt weak.
My hands were cold.
And the room seemed to tilt whenever I looked at Arthur's photograph.
Marcus guided me toward the chair beside the window.
The same chair Arthur had used during his last Christmas.
I sat.
Vanessa remained standing near the door.
Marcus crossed his arms.
"Start from the beginning."
She took a shaky breath.
"Two years ago, Arthur contacted me because he discovered something involving the family finances."
My head lifted.
"What finances?"
"Some accounts."
"What accounts?"
She looked at Marcus.
"Your father was worried about money."
I stared at her.
Arthur had handled our finances for most of our marriage.
We weren't wealthy, but we were comfortable.
We owned our home outright.
We had retirement savings.
And Arthur had a small investment account.
"What money?" I repeated.
Vanessa rubbed her forehead.
"He said someone was moving funds."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
She shook her head.
"I don't know."
Marcus stared at her.
"You expect us to believe Dad invited you to a hotel to discuss missing money?"
"Yes."
"Instead of telling Mom?"
"He didn't want to upset her."
I almost laughed.
Arthur had told me about every major financial decision we made.
Or at least I had believed he did.
"Why would he trust you?" I asked.
Vanessa looked away.
"I was helping him organize documents."
That was true.
During Arthur's final years, Vanessa had occasionally helped with computer banking because he disliked technology.
I had thanked her.
I had even bought her flowers for helping us.
Now I wondered whether those moments had been the beginning of something else.
Marcus asked, "Where are the documents?"
Vanessa hesitated.
"I don't have them anymore."
"Where did they go?"
"I don't know."
I stared at her.
Every answer created another question.
Then I remembered the missing wooden jewelry box.
"Where are Arthur's letters?"
Vanessa looked confused.
"What letters?"
"The letters I kept in this closet."
She shook her head.
"I haven't seen them."
"Don't lie to me."
"I'm not lying!"
Marcus stepped forward.
"Vanessa, enough."
She looked at him desperately.
"You have to believe me."
He shook his head.
"You're asking me to believe you while refusing to explain why you were secretly meeting my father."
She began crying again.
Then my phone rang.
I almost ignored it.
The caller was my old friend Margaret Ellis.
Margaret had been Arthur's office manager before he retired.
She had also been one of my closest friends for thirty years.
I answered.
"Margaret?"
Her voice sounded urgent.
"Evelyn, are you at Marcus's house?"
I glanced at Vanessa.
"Yes."
"Did you find the photograph?"
My entire body went cold.
"What?"
Margaret took a breath.
"Please tell me you found it."
I stared at the frame in Marcus's hands.
"How did you know?"
There was silence.
Then Margaret whispered, "Arthur told me to make sure you saw it if Vanessa ever tried to force you out."
I stopped breathing.
Marcus leaned closer.
"What is she saying?"
I put the phone on speaker.
Margaret continued.
"Arthur was afraid something would happen after he died."
Vanessa rushed forward.
"Hang up!"
Marcus blocked her.
Margaret heard the commotion.
"Is Vanessa there?"
"Yes," I whispered.
Margaret's voice hardened.
"Then tell her I still have the envelope Arthur gave me."
Vanessa's face lost all color.
"What envelope?" Marcus demanded.
Margaret hesitated.
"The one containing the documents from the hotel meeting."
I gripped the chair.
"Margaret, what was Arthur hiding from me?"
My friend began crying.
"Oh, Evelyn. He wasn't trying to hide something from you."
I closed my eyes.
"Then what was he doing?"
May you like
Her answer made the entire room fall silent.
"He was trying to protect you from someone inside your own family."
