Chapter 2: The Secret Drive
For a moment, nobody moved.
Grant stopped walking.
The restaurant seemed frozen around us.
“He didn’t hurt me first.””
Brooke’s words hung between us.
I looked at my daughter.
“What does that mean?””
Her lips parted, but no sound came out.
Grant answered for her.
“It means she’s confused.””
I turned toward him.
“No.””
My voice was calm.
Too calm.
“She means something.””
Patricia placed her wineglass down carefully.
“Carol, don’t embarrass yourself.””
I looked at her.
“Excuse me?””
She sighed like she was dealing with a difficult child.
“You’ve always been dramatic. Brooke inherited that from you.””
Brooke looked up.
For a second, I saw something in her expression.
Not fear.
Anger.
A tiny spark of the woman she used to be.
“Mom isn’t the problem,” Brooke said quietly.
Grant looked at her.
“Brooke.””
One word.
That was all.
But I saw my daughter shrink.
Then she looked away.
I stepped closer.
“Tell me what’s on that drive.””
Grant’s face hardened.
“Nothing.””
Interesting.
He answered too quickly.
I had spent years in interrogation rooms. I knew the difference between confidence and panic.
That was panic.
A man who believed he was innocent would ask questions.
A man who was afraid would try to destroy evidence.
“You don’t even know what’s on it,” I said.
Grant stared at me.
Then he smiled.
A cold, empty smile.
“You think you know everything because you worked some cases.””
I didn’t respond.
He continued.
“You think every man is a criminal and every woman is a victim.””
That sentence told me everything I needed to know about him.
Not because of what he said.
Because of what he didn’t say.
He never once said, “I would never hurt her.””
He never once said, “This is a misunderstanding.””
He only attacked me.
Patricia leaned forward.
“Grant has provided a beautiful home for Brooke. He takes care of her. Maybe you should ask yourself why she’s causing problems.””
I looked at Brooke.
“Is that what you believe?””
She shook her head slightly.
“No.””
It was barely audible.
But I heard it.
Grant heard it too.
His expression changed.
The calm mask cracked.
“You need to think carefully about what happens next.””
Brooke closed her eyes.
I stepped forward.
“Are you threatening my daughter?””
“No.””
He smiled.
“I’m reminding her.””
I felt my hands go cold.
“Reminding her of what?””
Brooke suddenly grabbed the flash drive tighter.
“Mom, we need to leave.””
Grant laughed.
“Where are you going?””
Brooke stood.
“I don’t know.””
It was the first honest thing she had said all night.
I took her hand.
“We’re leaving.””
Grant moved to block the path.
“You’re making a mistake.””
“No,” I said.
“I made a mistake six years ago.””
His eyebrows lifted.
“I trusted you.””
The waiter finally found his courage and approached.
“Sir, you need to step away from the table.””
Grant looked around.
Only then did he realize how many people were watching.
How many phones were recording.
His face changed.
He stepped back.
But before we walked away, Patricia leaned toward Brooke.
“You really want to destroy your marriage over this?””
Brooke stopped.
Patricia lowered her voice.
“You know what happens when people find out the truth.””
My daughter went pale.
I noticed.
“What truth?””
Nobody answered.
Outside the restaurant, the cold night air hit us.
Brooke immediately started crying.
Not the quiet tears she had hidden inside.
Real sobs.
The kind that come after someone has held pain for too long.
I wrapped my arms around her.
“Sweetheart, what happened?””
She shook her head.
“I should have told you.””
“Yes.””
She looked at me.
The honesty in my answer surprised her.
“I should have noticed,” I added.
Her face crumpled.
“Mom, you couldn’t have known.””
“I was supposed to.””
We stood there under the restaurant lights while cars passed behind us.
Finally, Brooke opened her purse.
She pulled out the flash drive.
“I copied this three weeks ago.””
“Why?””
“Because I realized I needed proof.””
I looked at the tiny piece of plastic in her hand.
“Proof of what?””
Brooke looked back at the restaurant window.
Grant and Patricia were still inside.
Watching us.
Then she whispered:
“Proof that Grant wasn’t just hurting me.””
My heart stopped.
“What do you mean?””
Brooke looked down.
“He was hurting someone else too.””
Before I could ask another question, my phone rang.
The screen showed a number I didn’t recognize.
I answered.
“Hello?””
A man’s voice came through.
“Carol?””
“Yes.””
There was a pause.
May you like
Then he said:
“You need to know what your son-in-law has been hiding before he destroys the evidence.””
