Chapter 3
I didn’t sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, I felt Claire’s hand in my hair.
I heard my heel slipping.
I felt the staircase disappear beneath me.
At three in the morning, I asked a nurse to wheel me to the NICU.
Emma was inside an incubator beneath soft blue light.
Tiny wires covered her chest.
A tube ran beneath her nose.
I pressed my fingers against the plastic wall.
“I’m here.”
Her hand moved.
Barely.
But it moved toward my voice.
I started crying.
“I’m sorry.”
A nurse named Denise stood beside me.
“You protected her.”
“I fell on her.”
“You curled around your stomach. The bruising shows that.”
I looked down at the purple marks across my arms.
“I should have known.”
“Known what?”
“That my husband hated me.”
Denise didn’t answer.
She didn’t need to.
When I returned to my room, Detective Ramirez was waiting.
My mother sat near the window.
A second officer stood beside him.
“Mrs. Bennett,” Ramirez said, “we need to ask you a few questions.”
“Is Claire arrested?”
“Not yet.”
My mother stood.
“Why not?”
Ramirez remained calm.
“Because we’re still establishing what happened.”
“She assaulted my daughter.”
“Mom.”
Helen stopped.
I looked at Ramirez.
“Ask.”
He opened a notebook.
“Did your husband know you would be coming home early?”
“No.”
“Did Claire?”
“No.”
“Had you met her before yesterday?”
“No.”
“Did you know Michael was having an affair?”
I looked at the blanket.
“I suspected something was wrong.”
“What kind of things?”
“He changed his phone password. Started staying late at work. Took calls outside.”
“Did you confront him?”
“Twice.”
“What did he say?”
“That pregnancy was making me paranoid.”
My mother made a disgusted sound.
Ramirez wrote something down.
“Were there financial problems in your marriage?”
“Not that I knew.”
My mother glanced at me.
I saw it.
“Mom?”
She looked away.
“What?”
“What aren’t you saying?”
Ramirez closed his notebook.
“Mrs. Carter discovered something yesterday.”
I turned toward her.
Helen sat again.
“Michael borrowed money against the house.”
I froze.
“He couldn’t.”
“The house is in both your names.”
“But it came from Dad.”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Eight hundred thousand.”
My mouth opened.
No sound came out.
“I never signed anything.”
“That’s the problem.”
Mom slid copies of loan papers toward me.
My signature was on every page.
It looked like mine.
But it wasn’t.
“That’s forged.”
“We believe so.”
My heart began pounding.
“What did he do with the money?”
Ramirez answered.
“Most of it went into his company.”
Michael ran a small real-estate development firm.
For years, he talked about expansion.
New projects.
Investors.
Deals.
I had never looked closely because he always told me business was going well.
“It wasn’t going well, was it?”
Ramirez shook his head.
“The company has significant debt.”
“How much?”
“Several million.”
I laughed once.
A broken sound.
“So he’s broke.”
“Essentially.”
“And I’m worth more to him dead than alive.”
Nobody corrected me.
A knock sounded.
My brother Daniel entered.
He was four years older than me and looked like our father when he was angry.
He saw the papers.
Then looked at Ramirez.
“Where is Michael?”
“Daniel,” Mom warned.
“I asked where he is.”
“He was questioned and released pending investigation.”
Daniel slammed his hand against the wall.
“They released him?”
“We don’t have enough evidence to hold him.”
“He planned this!”
Ramirez stood.
“We are investigating that possibility.”
“Possibility?”
“Daniel.”
My voice stopped him.
He looked at me.
I had never seen my brother cry either.
His eyes filled immediately.
He crossed the room and hugged me carefully.
“I’m sorry.”
I gripped his shirt.
“For what?”
“For believing him.”
I pulled back.
“What?”
Daniel sat beside me.
“Three months ago Michael asked me for money.”
I stared.
“How much?”
“Five hundred thousand.”
My mother turned.
“You never told me?”
“He said Sarah didn’t know the company was struggling and he wanted to fix things before the baby came.”
“Did you give it to him?” I asked.
“No.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“He made me promise.”
I started laughing again.
This time it became a sob.
“Everybody was protecting Michael from me.”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“But that’s what happened.”
Daniel looked sick.
“I should’ve told you.”
A nurse entered quickly.
“Mrs. Bennett, you have a visitor asking about the baby.”
My body went rigid.
“Who?”
The nurse hesitated.
“Your mother-in-law.”
I looked at Mom.
Helen’s expression went hard.
“Diane.”
Michael’s mother had barely spoken to me in months.
She had skipped my baby shower because she said she had migraines.
“Tell her no,” Daniel said.
But something inside me shifted.
“No.”
They looked at me.
“Let her in.”
“Sarah,” Mom said.
“I want to hear what she says.”
Diane entered two minutes later.
She looked twenty years older.
Her makeup was gone.
Her hands shook around her purse.
The moment she saw me, she started crying.
“Sarah.”
I didn’t respond.
She came closer.
“I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
Her lips trembled.
“For all of it.”
My mother stood beside the bed.
“What exactly does ‘all of it’ mean?”
Diane looked at the detective.
Then at me.
“I knew about Claire.”
Silence.
Daniel stepped forward.
“You knew?”
“Not at first.”
“How long?”
Diane covered her mouth.
“Four months.”
Four months.
While she came to my house for Sunday dinner.
While she touched my belly.
While she asked whether Emma kicked at night.
“You knew your son was sleeping with another woman.”
“I begged him to stop.”
“But you didn’t tell me.”
“He said it was over.”
“When?”
“Last month.”
I stared at her.
“He lied.”
“I know.”
“Is that why you came?”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“There’s something you need to know about Claire.”
Ramirez leaned forward.
“What?”
Diane looked at the closed door.
Then whispered.
“She isn’t just Michael’s mistress.”
My skin prickled.
“What does that mean?”
“She worked for him.”
“I know his staff.”
“She wasn’t officially on payroll.”
Ramirez’s eyes narrowed.
“What kind of work?”
Diane shook her head.
“I don’t know exactly. I heard them arguing once.”
“About?”
“Documents.”
My heart stopped.
“What documents?”
“Your documents.”
Nobody spoke.
Diane continued.
“Michael had copies of your trust papers. Insurance. Property records. He told Claire he needed signatures that would survive a bank review.”
I gripped the blanket.
Claire helped forge my signature.
Ramirez immediately stood.
“When did you hear this?”
“Two weeks ago.”
“And you didn’t report it?”
Diane started sobbing.
“He’s my son.”
My mother stepped toward her.
“And Sarah was his wife.”
“I know.”
“She could have died.”
“I know!”
Diane sank into a chair.
Daniel turned away in disgust.
I watched her.
“Why are you telling us now?”
She wiped her face.
“Because Michael called me last night.”
Every muscle in my body tightened.
“What did he say?”
“He said things were going wrong.”
“Meaning?”
“He said Claire had become unstable. He said she was threatening to tell the police everything.”
Ramirez pulled out his phone.
“Where is Claire now?”
Diane looked terrified.
“I don’t know.”
The detective immediately walked toward the door.
Before he reached it, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
Everyone stopped.
I stared at the screen.
Then answered.
“Hello?”
At first I heard only breathing.
Then a woman’s voice.
Claire.
“Sarah?”
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Where are you?”
“Don’t hang up.”
Ramirez pointed to the speaker button.
I pressed it.
Claire sounded like she was crying.
“I didn’t know he was going to do it yesterday.”
“Do what?”
“Come back.”
“What are you talking about?”
“He wasn’t supposed to walk in until later.”
My mother covered her mouth.
Claire continued.
“He said you weren’t supposed to be home.”
“Why were you in my house?”
Silence.
“Claire?”
“He wanted you to find me.”
My entire body went cold.
“What?”
“He wanted you upset.”
“Why?”
“So you would leave.”
“That makes no sense.”
“He needed you driving.”
Ramirez’s eyes sharpened.
“Driving where?”
Claire started crying harder.
“Your car.”
I remembered something.
Michael had insisted I take my SUV to his mechanic two days earlier.
He said he heard a strange sound from the brakes.
My breathing stopped.
“What did he do to my car?”
“I don’t know.”
“Claire!”
“I swear I don’t know exactly.”
The detective mouthed, Keep her talking.
Claire whispered, “Michael said accidents happen when people are emotional.”
The room disappeared around me.
The staircase had not been the plan.
It had been an opportunity.
The real plan was waiting in my garage.
“Where are you?” Ramirez called.
Claire heard him.
“No.”
“Claire, this is Detective Ramirez. We can protect you.”
“You can’t.”
“Tell me where you are.”
“If Michael finds out I called—”
A loud bang sounded through the phone.
May you like
Claire screamed.
Then the line went dead.
