Chapter 2
For a second, nobody moved.
Dirty water dripped from Linda’s hair onto the hardwood floor.
Ryan still had his hand around my wrist.
But I barely felt it.
All I could see was the message glowing on Linda’s phone.
Ryan is already on board.
I looked at my husband.
His face changed.
Not confusion.
Fear.
That was worse.
“Let go of me.”
“Emma—”
“Let go.”
He released my wrist.
Linda lunged for the phone.
I got there first.
She grabbed my forearm.
“Give me that!”
I stepped back.
“Who is the attorney?”
“It’s none of your business.”
“It became my business when the message mentioned me.”
Ryan moved between us.
“Emma, just put the phone down.”
I stared at him.
“You knew.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
“You knew.”
“It’s not what you think.”
Linda snapped, “Ryan, stop explaining yourself to her.”
I laughed once.
It sounded broken even to me.
“Explaining himself?”
I held up the phone.
“This says you’re already on board.”
Ryan rubbed both hands over his face.
“Mom was worried.”
“About what?”
“About the fighting.”
“The fighting?”
My voice rose.
“She just shoved my face into a bucket.”
Linda pointed at the water dripping from her robe.
“And you assaulted me.”
“After you attacked me!”
“I was defending myself.”
“You were holding me by my hair!”
Ryan stepped closer.
“Both of you need to calm down.”
I turned on him so fast he stopped moving.
“Do not put us in the same sentence.”
He opened his mouth.
I didn’t let him speak.
“One of us was cleaning your mother’s house all morning. The other grabbed someone by the hair.”
“Emma—”
“One of us was trying to breathe. The other was pushing her face toward filthy water.”
Linda folded her arms.
“You’re being dramatic.”
I looked at her.
Then I looked back at the phone.
The message preview had disappeared.
The screen was locked.
“Unlock it.”
Linda laughed.
“No.”
I held it tighter.
“Unlock it.”
“You stole my phone.”
“I’m calling the police.”
That shut everyone up.
Ryan’s face went pale.
“Come on. Don’t do that.”
My stomach dropped.
There it was.
Not concern for me.
Concern about consequences.
“Why not?”
“Because this is a family issue.”
“Your mother put her hands on me.”
“And you dumped water on her.”
“After she assaulted me.”
Linda suddenly smiled again.
“Call them.”
Ryan looked at her.
“Mom.”
“No, let her.”
She stepped closer, looking straight into my eyes.
“Call the police, Emma.”
The confidence in her voice frightened me more than her anger.
She wanted me to.
I looked at the phone in my hand.
Then at the small black camera above the doorway.
I had seen it a hundred times.
Linda called it the security camera.
My heart started pounding.
The entire attack had happened almost directly beneath it.
“Perfect,” I said.
Linda’s smile disappeared.
I pointed upward.
“The camera recorded everything.”
Ryan looked at the camera.
Then at his mother.
And that tiny movement told me something else.
Something was wrong.
I walked toward the kitchen counter where my own phone sat charging.
Ryan stepped in front of me.
“Emma, wait.”
“Move.”
“Can we talk privately?”
“You had three months to talk privately.”
“I didn’t know she was going to do that.”
“But you knew about the lawyer.”
He looked away.
I felt something inside me crack.
Not loudly.
Quietly.
Like ice separating beneath your feet.
I picked up my phone.
Linda said, “You’re making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“No.”
I looked at Ryan.
“I think marrying your son was.”
I dialed 911.
Ryan whispered my name.
I turned away from him.
The dispatcher answered.
I gave the address.
I said my mother-in-law had assaulted me.
I said there was security footage.
Then Linda laughed.
It was soft.
Almost relieved.
“You really should have checked the camera before you called.”
I slowly lowered my phone.
“What?”
She walked to the wall panel beside the pantry.
Tapped the screen.
Entered a code.
The security system opened.
CAMERA 1: FRONT PORCH.
CAMERA 2: DRIVEWAY.
CAMERA 3: BACKYARD.
CAMERA 4: HALLWAY.
She tapped the hallway camera.
NO RECORDINGS AVAILABLE.
My skin went cold.
“Where is today’s footage?”
Linda looked at Ryan.
I followed her eyes.
Ryan swallowed.
“Ryan?”
He said nothing.
“Where is the footage?”
He stared at the floor.
“I turned that camera off this morning.”
I forgot how to breathe.
Linda smiled.
I whispered, “Why?”
Ryan’s eyes filled with panic.
“Mom said she was having a private conversation with someone.”
“At seven in the morning?”
“I didn’t think—”
“You never think when it comes to her!”
A voice came through my phone.
“Ma’am? Are you still there?”
I lifted it to my ear.
“Yes.”
Ryan reached for me.
I moved away.
“Yes, I’m still here.”
Linda walked past me as though the police were coming to deliver groceries.
She poured herself a glass of water.
“Tell them everything,” she said.
“I intend to.”
“You should.”
She took a slow drink.
“Especially the part where you stole my phone and attacked me with the bucket.”
I stared at her.
She wanted the police to arrive.
She had disabled the camera.
She had an attorney waiting.
And Ryan had helped.
This was not an argument that got out of control.
It was a setup.
I ended the call after the dispatcher confirmed officers were on the way.
Then I looked at Ryan.
“How long?”
He frowned.
“How long what?”
“How long have you and your mother been planning to get rid of me?”
“We haven’t been planning anything.”
“Stop lying!”
He flinched.
Linda slammed her glass onto the counter.
“Fine.”
Ryan turned.
“Mom, don’t.”
“No. She wants the truth.”
Linda faced me.
“You’ve been miserable here since the day you arrived.”
“Because you treat me like garbage.”
“You complain constantly.”
“I asked you to stop entering our bedroom without knocking.”
“My house.”
“I asked you to stop going through my laundry.”
“My machines.”
“I asked you not to open my mail.”
“My mailbox.”
“Listen to yourself!”
Linda leaned toward me.
“You don’t belong here.”
“That’s something we finally agree on.”
I walked toward the stairs.
Ryan followed.
“Where are you going?”
“To pack.”
“You can’t leave right now.”
I stopped.
“Watch me.”
“The police are coming.”
“I’ll talk to them first.”
I climbed the stairs.
Ryan followed me into our bedroom.
I pulled a suitcase from the closet.
“Emma, please.”
I threw clothes onto the bed.
“Did you speak to the attorney?”
Silence.
I turned.
“Did you?”
“Yes.”
The word barely left his mouth.
My hands stopped moving.
“When?”
“A few weeks ago.”
“A few weeks?”
“It wasn’t about divorce.”
I stared at him.
“I didn’t ask if it was about divorce.”
His eyes widened.
Too late.
“What divorce?”
“Nothing.”
“Ryan.”
“Mom asked what would happen if you refused to leave her house.”
“And?”
“The attorney said she could formally evict you.”
I laughed bitterly.
“I’m your wife.”
“I know.”
“We moved here together.”
“I know.”
“You begged me to do this.”
“I know.”
“And then you secretly met with a lawyer to find out how your mother could throw me out?”
“She said things were getting worse.”
“Because she was making them worse!”
I grabbed another pile of clothes.
Ryan closed the bedroom door.
“She said you were trying to turn me against her.”
I stared at him.
“I asked you to defend me.”
“She’s my mother.”
“And I’m your wife.”
“I know that.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“You keep saying you know. You don’t.”
A police siren sounded in the distance.
Ryan walked closer.
“Please don’t tell them about the lawyer.”
I stopped packing.
I could hardly believe him.
“That’s what you care about?”
“It’ll make everything look calculated.”
“It was calculated.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
His mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
The siren grew louder.
I zipped the suitcase.
“Fine.”
I dragged it toward the door.
Ryan blocked me.
“There’s something else.”
My hand tightened around the handle.
“What?”
He looked toward the hallway.
Then lowered his voice.
“Mom didn’t contact that attorney because she wanted to evict you.”
I stared at him.
“Then why?”
He swallowed.
“She contacted him because of Grandpa’s trust.”
“What trust?”
Ryan closed his eyes.
And that was when I heard Linda scream from downstairs.
“RYAN!”
We ran out of the bedroom.
Linda stood at the bottom of the stairs.
Her phone was back in her hand.
I hadn’t even noticed her take it.
Her face was white.
“What happened?” Ryan shouted.
She stared at me.
Then she slowly raised the screen.
A new message had appeared.
Not from the attorney.
From someone named DAVID MERCER.
I recognized the name immediately.
Ryan’s uncle.
The man Linda had told me was dead.
May you like
The message said:
“She found out about the lawyer. Stop pretending. Tell Emma why her signature is worth two million dollars before the police get there.”
