When I got there, Mark looked sick.
He led me upstairs, opened Liam’s office safe, and handed me a thick envelope.
On the front, in Liam’s handwriting, were three words.
Inside the envelope were bank records, photos, and a note.
Advertisement
Give to Emily.
I looked up at Mark. “Why didn’t you call me sooner?”
He swallowed. “He asked me to wait until after the funeral. I should’ve called sooner anyway. Then Grace came by asking whether Liam left anything in the safe, and I knew I’d already waited too long.”
My stomach dropped.
Inside the envelope were bank records, photos, and a note.
The note began, “Em, if you’re reading this, then they finally got to me. Please don’t trust Grace.”
The next line was worse.
Advertisement
I stopped breathing for a second.
The next line was worse.
“Grace has been stealing from money meant for the kids, and Ryan knows I found out.”
I read it three times.
There were copies of old estate records from after our mother died. Grace had insisted on handling most of the paperwork because she was “better with forms.” I had let her. According to Liam’s notes, she had been skimming money from my share before the rest was moved into the education fund we set up for Ava and Ben. Liam found it while helping me with taxes.
Then I found the line that made my hands start shaking.
Advertisement
He had written: I didn’t tell you until I had proof. I knew what accusing your sister would do to you.
There were also photos of Grace meeting Ryan behind Liam’s office.
Ryan was Grace’s ex-husband. According to Grace, he had been out of the picture for years.
Liam’s next note said that was a lie.
Ryan had come back broke and desperate after a failed business deal. He owed money to men he was scared of. Grace had been feeding him money, telling herself she was protecting her daughter from his chaos.
Then I found the line that made my hands shake.
A week before the crash, someone left a note under my wiper: Drop it. Think of your wife.
For one sick second I just stared at her.
Advertisement
At the bottom of the page, Liam had written: If Mark gives you this, go to the storage unit. Toolbox. Underside. Don’t tell Grace.
I looked at Mark. “Did Liam think Ryan would hurt him?”
Mark rubbed a hand over his face. “He hoped not. But he was worried enough to leave me that envelope.”
I drove home in a daze and saw Grace through the kitchen window making pancakes with the kids.
For one sick second I just stared at her.
Then I went in smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
