Chapter 6: The Letter From My Dead Wife
We didn’t go home.
Emily refused.
Not because she hated our house.
Because she knew something about it that I didn’t.
“It’s not safe,” she said.
Those three words stayed in my head.
My home.
The place where Lily grew up.
The place where Emily and I painted walls together.
The place where I had watched my daughter take her first steps.
Not safe.
We rented a small room at a hotel outside the city.
It felt strange sitting across from my wife after five years of believing she was gone.
There was so much I wanted to ask.
Why didn’t you come back?
Why did you let Lily grow up without you?
Why did you let me mourn you?
But every question felt selfish.
Because I could see the answer written on her face.
She had suffered too.
Emily placed an old envelope on the table.
“This is what Mark wanted.””
I looked at it.
“The letter?””
She nodded.
“The original.””
I frowned.
“But I saw one.””
Emily looked at me.
“That was a copy.””
My stomach dropped.
“A copy?””
“Mark created it to make you believe Lily knew everything.””
I looked at the envelope.
“Why?””
“Because he knew Lily found something.””
“What?””
Emily looked at our daughter.
“Your mother’s account book.””
Lily sat quietly beside me.
“She found it after the funeral.””
I looked at her.
“Why didn’t you tell me?””
Her eyes filled.
“Because Uncle Mark found me before I could.””
Emily reached for Lily’s hand.
“He scared her.””
I looked at my daughter.
“What did he do?””
Lily swallowed.
“He came into my room.””
The words made my hands tighten into fists.
“When?””
“Two weeks after Mom died.””
I felt sick.
“He told me Dad was already broken.””
Lily looked down.
“He said if I caused more problems, I would lose you too.””
I closed my eyes.
I remembered that time.
I remembered being lost in grief.
Working until midnight.
Barely eating.
Barely talking.
Mark had been there.
Helping.
Or pretending to help.
“He knew I was vulnerable,” I whispered.
Emily nodded.
“He knew all of us were.””
She opened the envelope.
Inside was a small memory card.
I stared.
“What is that?””
“Proof.””
Emily placed it on the table.
“Mark wasn’t just stealing money.””
“What was he doing?””
She looked directly at me.
“He was using the company to move money for someone else.””
“Who?””
Emily hesitated.
Then said:
“People who don’t forgive mistakes.””
The room went quiet.
A phone rang.
Everyone looked at the table.
It was Emily’s phone.
Unknown number.
She picked it up.
Nobody spoke.
Then her face changed.
“What?””
She stood.
“No, you stay away from him.””
I looked at her.
“Who is it?””
She didn’t answer.
The call ended.
“What happened?””
Emily looked at me.
Her voice was barely a whisper.
“Mark has Lily’s backpack.””
My heart stopped.
“What?””
“He found where she was hiding.””
Lily stood.
“My backpack?””
Emily nodded.
“He called to tell me he has something I need.””
“What?””
Emily looked at me.
“The account book.””
A terrible silence filled the room.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message.
From Mark.
I opened it.
There was a picture.
My house.
The living room.
The broken television was still against the wall.
May you like
And beneath the picture were six words.
“Come home alone, Daniel. Or Lily disappears.””
