We drove home without stopping.
I wanted to believe the message was only another attempt to frighten me.
But the timing was too precise.
Someone knew what we had found.
Someone knew we had spoken to Richard.
And someone wanted me to question Evelyn.
The words kept repeating in my head.
You have no idea what your wife did before she married you.
I finally asked her.
“Is there something about your past I don't know?”
She didn't answer immediately.
“Yes.”
The word was quiet.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel.
“What?”
“Not what she wants you to think.”
I waited.
Evelyn stared through the passenger window.
“Before I met you, I worked for a financial company.”
“I knew that.”
“I wasn't just an assistant.”
I looked at her.
“I handled account records.”
“What kind?”
“Private accounts.”
I felt a knot forming in my stomach.
“Did you ever work with my father's company?”
“No.”
The answer was immediate.
“Then what?”
She reached into her bag.
“I found this months ago.”
She handed me a photocopy.
It was a list of accounts.
My father's name appeared near the bottom.
I pulled over.
“What is this?”
“A transfer history.”
I read the dates.
The account had been opened shortly before my father's death.
Money had moved through it.
Then the account had closed.
The final destination was the same company listed in my mother's documents.
I looked at Evelyn.
“You knew this?”
“I suspected.”
“How long?”
“Since before the baby.”
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I didn't know whether your mother was involved.”
I stared at the page.
“Now you do?”
“I think so.”
She pointed to one line.
The authorization code belonged to an employee at Evelyn's former company.
Her old supervisor.
A woman named Marissa.
“Do you know where she is?”
“Yes.”
I called her.
She didn't answer.
I left a message.
Then I called again.
Still nothing.
When we reached home, the apartment door was unlocked.
I stopped.
Evelyn grabbed my arm.
Neither of us moved.
I checked the lock.
There were no signs of forced entry.
Inside, everything appeared normal.
Then I saw the guest room.
My mother's boxes had been opened.
Papers were scattered across the floor.
The black storage bin was empty.
Someone had taken the original documents.
I rushed to the kitchen.
The folder from Richard was still with me.
The photocopies were safe.
But the envelope Evelyn had found was gone.
“So she came back,” I said.
Evelyn shook her head.
“Maybe.”
I walked through every room.
Nothing else seemed disturbed.
Then I saw something on our bedroom mirror.
A small piece of paper had been taped to the glass.
I removed it.
Three words.
Ask about Daniel.
I looked at Evelyn.
“Who is Daniel?”
She went completely still.
I had never seen that expression on her face.
Not fear.
Recognition.
“Evelyn?”
She sat on the bed.
“Daniel was my brother.”
I waited.
“He died when I was nineteen.”
“How?”
“Car accident.”
I remembered her mentioning him once.
Only once.
I had assumed the subject was painful.
“What does he have to do with this?”
“He worked at the same company I did.”
My chest tightened.
“Did he know about my father?”
“I don't know.”
“You said he died before you met me.”
“Yes.”
“What happened before the accident?”
She looked down.
“He had been investigating missing money.”
I sat beside her.
“From the company?”
She nodded.
“Daniel thought someone was moving funds through fake accounts.”
“Did he tell you?”
“He gave me copies of some records.”
“Do you still have them?”
“I thought they were lost.”
“Where were they?”
She looked toward the closet.
“My old apartment.”
I frowned.
“You kept them?”
“I moved them here after we married.”
We searched.
Nothing.
Then Evelyn remembered something.
“The lining of my old suitcase.”
We pulled the suitcase from the closet.
The fabric inside had been cut open.
Someone had removed the papers.
I stared at the torn lining.
“This wasn't my mother.”
Evelyn looked at me.
“Why?”
“She didn't know about Daniel.”
“She could have.”
“She might.”
I thought about the message.
Ask about Daniel.
Whoever left it wanted me to know about him.
But why?
We called the police about the break-in.
There wasn't much they could do.
Nothing obvious had been stolen from the apartment except the documents.
The officer took photographs and asked questions.
When he left, Evelyn sat at the kitchen table.
“I think I know why.”
“Why what?”
“Why your mother kept saying I was dangerous.”
I waited.
“Daniel believed someone inside the company was helping move money.”
“Your mother?”
“I don't know.”
“But you think she was connected.”
Evelyn nodded slowly.
“My brother disappeared for two days before the accident.”
I stared at her.
“You never told me that.”
“Because I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“That the accident wasn't an accident.”
The words hung in the room.
I wanted to reject them.
But the pattern was becoming difficult to ignore.
My father.
The trust.
The missing money.
Evelyn's brother.
My mother's control.
The documents.
The threats.
I felt as though I were standing in the middle of a story that had begun before I was old enough to understand it.
Then the phone rang.
It was Marissa.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?”
She sounded frightened.
“Julian?”
“Yes.”
“I shouldn't have called you.”
“Where are you?”
“I can't talk.”
“You know about my father's account.”
Silence.
Then she whispered, “I know.”
My heart raced.
“Who authorized the transfers?”
“I can't tell you.”
“You can.”
“No.”
“Marissa, my wife is pregnant and someone broke into our home tonight.”
She inhaled sharply.
“Is Evelyn with you?”
“Yes.”
“Then listen carefully.”
Her voice dropped.
“Do not let her leave your sight.”
I looked at Evelyn.
She was watching me.
“Why?”
“Because if they think she still has the records, they will come after her first.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
Evelyn stood.
“Who was it?”
“Marissa.”
“What did she say?”
I told her.
Evelyn's face tightened.
“Julian.”
“What?”
“That's why my mother kept saying I was dangerous.”
“Your mother?”
“Not Nora.”
I frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“My mother died when I was sixteen.”
I felt a chill.
Evelyn looked toward the window.
“The woman who raised me after that was my aunt.”
I stared at her.
“And?”
“She knew Daniel was investigating the accounts.”
My phone buzzed again.
This time, there was a photograph.
It showed a woman standing beside my mother.
The woman was older.
I didn't recognize her.
Evelyn did.
Her face drained of color.
“That's my aunt.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 8: The Woman Beside My Mother Was the Missing Link, and Her Name Explained Why Evelyn Had Been Silenced Long Before She Entered My Life
I Thought I Was Bringing My Pregnant Wife a Small Surprise Until I Opened the Door and Saw My Mother Standing Over Her
Part 7 of 12
