Chapter 13
Mark called the police.
His wife took their daughter and stayed with relatives.
I told him to stop helping me.
He refused.
“This stopped being just about you a long time ago.”
“But your family—”
“Is exactly why I’m not backing down.”
I understood him.
That didn’t make me less afraid.
Detective Flores asked whether Daniel had access to the photograph used in the threat.
Mark stared at the image.
“It was posted privately.”
“Who could see it?”
“Employees. Friends. Family.”
“Daniel?”
“Yes.”
That proved nothing.
But it meant the threat could have come from someone inside his circle.
Daniel denied involvement through his lawyer.
His attorneys called the envelope a disgusting attempt by an unknown person to inflame the case.
For once, I almost believed he might be telling the truth.
Daniel had enemies now.
Employees.
Investors.
Clients.
Vanessa.
Kyle.
Anyone could have sent it.
That uncertainty frightened me even more.
At therapy, I admitted I was checking Rachel’s doors four times every night.
Dr. Lane didn’t tell me to stop.
She asked what would make me feel reasonably secure.
We installed cameras.
Ben changed the locks.
Julia arranged for security when I attended public hearings.
The practical steps helped.
Then Dr. Lane asked me not to check each lock more than once.
“That feels impossible.”
“Try one night.”
“What if I miss something?”
“That is anxiety asking for certainty.”
“I want certainty.”
“I know.”
“Can I have it?”
“No.”
I hated that answer.
But she was right.
I checked the locks once that night.
Then I lay awake for two hours.
The next night, only one.
By the fourth night, I slept.
Small victories.
Meanwhile, Daniel launched a public campaign to save himself.
A business magazine published an interview with him.
He claimed marital conflict had been weaponized against a successful company.
He admitted the affair.
He called it “a deeply regrettable personal mistake.”
He described the slap as “an instinctive reaction during a chaotic confrontation.”
He denied fraud.
Then he said something that made my stomach turn.
“My wife has always struggled with the pressure surrounding wealth and family expectations.”
Rachel threw the magazine across the room.
“He’s calling you unstable.”
“He’s doing it politely.”
“That’s worse.”
Julia advised silence again.
This time, I agreed.
Facts were accumulating faster than his interviews could erase them.
Then Vanessa disappeared.
She missed a scheduled meeting with her attorney.
Her phone went off.
She didn’t return home.
The original ledger was still in her safe-deposit box, but accessing it required her cooperation or a warrant.
Daniel’s lawyer immediately suggested she had fled because she stole company money.
Mark didn’t believe it.
“Vanessa likes expensive restaurants and attention. She doesn’t know how to disappear.”
Rachel shrugged.
“Maybe fear taught her.”
I remembered her face in Julia’s office.
She had been terrified.
I called her number anyway.
Voicemail.
I texted:
You do not have to talk to me. Please tell your lawyer you are safe.
No answer.
Twenty-four hours passed.
Then forty-eight.
Her attorney reported her missing.
Police checked hospitals.
Airports.
Relatives.
Kyle claimed he hadn’t seen her.
Daniel claimed no contact.
The media went insane.
Mistress Missing Amid CEO Fraud Scandal.
I hated every headline.
She was reduced to a role.
Mistress.
Not witness.
Not daughter.
Not woman.
Not potential victim.
I still resented her.
But I wanted her alive.
On the third night, I woke to my old phone vibrating.
The device didn’t have active service.
But it was connected to Wi-Fi.
A message had arrived through an old messaging application.
Unknown username.
Only one line.
HE THINKS I GAVE YOU THE ORIGINAL.
I sat upright.
Another message appeared.
I DIDN’T.
My hands shook.
“Vanessa?”
Three dots.
Then:
YES.
I woke Rachel.
She wanted to call police immediately.
I typed first.
Are you safe?
Vanessa:
FOR NOW.
Where are you?
NO.
I understood.
She didn’t trust anyone.
Not even me.
I typed:
Contact your lawyer.
I CAN’T.
Why?
MY PHONE IS COMPROMISED.
I looked at Rachel.
“What does that mean?”
“It means she thinks Daniel can track her.”
Another message.
KYLE TOLD DANIEL I TOOK THE LEDGER.
My stomach dropped.
Your brother?
HE’S BEEN WORKING WITH HIM LONGER THAN I KNEW.
Where is the ledger?
SAFE.
Then she sent a number.
A bank branch.
Safe-deposit box.
And a name.
Not hers.
Lauren Bennett.
I stared.
Why Lauren?
Vanessa replied:
SHE HELPED ME.
My heart pounded.
I called Lauren immediately.
She answered groggily.
“Emily?”
“Are you with Vanessa?”
Silence.
That was answer enough.
“Is she safe?”
“For now.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?”
“Because she begged me not to.”
“Police are looking for her.”
“I know.”
“Lauren.”
“She thinks someone followed her after she met with Julia.”
Rachel grabbed her coat.
“Where are you?”
Lauren hesitated.
Then gave me an address in Wisconsin.
Julia told us not to go.
Police went instead.
Vanessa was found alive at a small cabin owned by Lauren’s cousin.
She returned to Chicago under attorney supervision.
When I saw her again, she looked terrible.
No makeup.
Hair unwashed.
Dark circles beneath her eyes.
She looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
“For disappearing?”
“For everything.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Detective Flores interviewed her for four hours.
Then federal investigators took over.
The ledger was recovered.
It documented years of transfers.
Not months.
Years.
It also contained initials beside certain payments.
K.P.
Kyle Price.
D.H.
Daniel.
And one set we couldn’t identify.
R.H.
Margaret solved it.
When Julia showed her the initials, she went pale.
“Richard Hale.”
Daniel’s father.
“But he’s dead,” I said.
“Eight years.”
Margaret stared at the ledger.
“Some of those entries are older.”
The earliest transaction was from nine years ago.
Before Richard died.
Before Daniel supposedly became the sole architect of the scheme.
Margaret began shaking.
“He learned it from his father.”
The room went quiet.
Daniel had grown up watching violence.
Now it appeared he had also grown up watching financial deception.
That explained him.
It did not excuse him.
Then Vanessa told us why she fled.
“I heard Kyle talking to Daniel.”
“What did they say?” Detective Flores asked.
She looked toward me.
“They were discussing Mark’s threat.”
Mark went still.
“Kyle sent it?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
She swallowed.
“Daniel said the message wasn’t enough.”
My blood turned cold.
“What did he mean?”
Vanessa’s voice cracked.
“He said if people were going to betray him, they needed to become genuinely afraid.”
Detective Flores leaned forward.
“Did he specify anyone?”
“Yes.”
“Who?”
Vanessa looked directly at me.
“Emily.”
Every muscle in my body locked.
“What did he say about her?”
Vanessa started crying.
“He said he knew exactly where she felt safest.”
I thought of Rachel’s house.
Then my old home.
Then my father’s grave.
But Vanessa shook her head as if reading my thoughts.
“No.”
She whispered the answer.
“The lake house.”
My father’s cabin.
May you like
The one place I still went when I needed to remember who I was.
And Daniel still had a key.
