Chapter 8: The Storage Unit
The storage facility smelled like dust, metal, and old memories.
Brooke stood beside me as I unlocked the door.
Neither of us spoke.
Sometimes silence was easier than admitting what you were afraid to say.
The key turned.
The lock clicked.
Inside were boxes.
Dozens of them.
My daughter stepped forward.
“I kept everything.””
I looked at her.
“Everything?””
She nodded.
“Dad’s files. My notes. Things I found about Grant.””
I stared at the boxes.
My husband had spent years hiding the truth.
My daughter had spent years searching for it.
And I had been completely unaware.
I picked up the nearest box.
On the side, Daniel had written:
*GRANT ELLIS — CONNECTIONS*
My hands tightened.
Evan looked over my shoulder.
“He kept organized records.””
“That was Daniel.””
I smiled sadly.
“He labeled everything.””
Brooke laughed quietly.
“Even his tools.””
For one second, she looked like my old Brooke.
The girl who used to laugh so loudly that the neighbors complained.
Then the sadness returned.
We opened the first box.
Inside were newspaper articles.
Court documents.
Photographs.
And a name that appeared again and again.
Grant’s father.
Richard Ellis.
I read through the documents.
“Your father was investigating financial crimes?””
Brooke nodded.
“Among other things.””
Evan picked up a photograph.
“This is important.””
It showed Richard Ellis standing beside several men.
One of them was younger Grant.
Another was someone I recognized.
A former assistant district attorney.
Someone who had resigned after a scandal.
My throat tightened.
“How many people are involved?””
Evan looked at the boxes.
“More than we thought.””
Brooke reached into another folder.
Then she froze.
“What?””
She handed me a document.
It was a marriage certificate.
Not hers.
Grant’s.
I looked at the name.
Another woman.
A woman I didn’t recognize.
The date was six months before Grant met Brooke.
I looked at my daughter.
“Did you know?””
She shook her head.
“No.””
Evan frowned.
“That means…”
“He was married before.””
Brooke looked sick.
“I checked.””
“Clearly not enough.””
The words came out sharper than I intended.
Immediately, I regretted them.
But Brooke didn’t get angry.
She just looked tired.
“I thought I knew him.””
I put the paper down.
“You knew who he wanted you to know.””
A sound came from outside.
A car door.
We all froze.
Evan walked toward the entrance.
“Stay back.””
Through the crack in the storage door, we saw someone standing outside.
A woman.
She was older.
Around my age.
She looked terrified.
Evan opened the door slightly.
“Who are you?””
The woman looked past him.
Her eyes landed on Brooke.
Then on me.
And she whispered:
“You’re Carol.””
I stepped forward.
“Yes.””
Her hands shook.
“My name is Laura.””
The name on the marriage certificate.
I looked at the paper.
Then at her.
“You were married to Grant.””
Her face crumpled.
“Yes.””
Brooke stepped back.
“How long?””
Laura swallowed.
“Eight months.””
“Why didn’t anyone know?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“Because Grant made sure nobody knew.””
She looked at me.
“I tried to leave.””
The fear in her voice was familiar.
Too familiar.
“What happened?””
Laura looked down.
“He told me if I went to the police, he would ruin me.””
I felt anger rising.
“What did he have on you?””
She shook her head.
“Nothing.””
A pause.
“Because he didn’t need anything.””
I frowned.
“What does that mean?””
Laura looked toward the parking lot.
Then whispered:
“He created things.””
The words chilled me.
“Fake evidence.””
Nobody moved.
Laura reached into her bag.
She pulled out a small recorder.
“I kept this because I knew one day someone would need proof.””
She handed it to me.
“What’s on it?””
Laura looked at Brooke.
“Your husband admitting why he married you.””
My fingers tightened around the recorder.
Then Laura added:
“But there’s something else.””
“What?””
She looked directly at me.
“Grant didn’t choose Brooke randomly.””
A pause.
“He chose her because of you.””
Before I could ask why, Laura pointed behind us.
May you like
A black car was entering the storage facility.
And we recognized it immediately.
