Chapter 7: The Letter Emily Left Behind
I read Emily's handwriting until the words blurred.
Ask Michael what he witnessed that night.
My wife had written those words before she died. She had hidden them inside the jewelry box Sophie had just told me Vanessa took from my study.
And somehow, my brother had become part of a story I hadn't known existed.
"Sweetheart," I said, kneeling in front of Sophie, "where did you find this piece of paper?""
"In my room.""
"When?""
She twisted one of the rabbit's ears around her finger.
"After Vanessa took Mommy's box, I saw something fall out of her bag. I picked it up because I thought it was a picture of Mommy.""
"Did Vanessa see you take it?""
Sophie shook her head.
"She told me to go downstairs and watch television. Then she called somebody and said the envelope was missing.""
My stomach tightened.
"What did she say after that?""
Sophie looked toward the door.
"She said you couldn't know about the letter. She said if you found out, everything would be ruined.""
I folded the paper carefully and placed it inside my jacket.
"Thank you for telling me.""
"Are you mad at me?""
The question nearly broke me.
I pulled her into my arms.
"Never. You hear me? You're never in trouble for telling me the truth.""
She buried her face against my neck.
"I tried to tell you before, Daddy. But Vanessa said you would think I was lying.""
I held her tighter.
"That was wrong of her. I'm sorry I didn't understand sooner.""
When Sophie finally relaxed, I asked the hotel staff to arrange a quiet room where she could stay with a trusted female employee while Detective Brooks spoke with me privately.
I didn't want Sophie hearing another conversation about death, insurance, or the possibility that someone had harmed her mother.
Detective Brooks returned twenty minutes later.
She placed a notebook on the table.
"Mr. Carter, I've spoken with the officers who escorted Ms. Reed from the hotel. She's requested legal counsel, and we're preserving the documents found in her bag.""
I handed her Emily's note.
"I need you to read this.""
She studied it carefully.
"Do you recognize the handwriting?""
"Every letter.""
"Did your wife ever express concerns about her medication before she died?""
I remembered the final weeks of Emily's life.
She had been tired, frightened, and frustrated by the constant changes to her prescriptions. Sometimes she complained that one medication made her dizzy. Her doctor had adjusted the dosage more than once.
At the time, I'd assumed those problems were part of the illness.
"She mentioned feeling strange after taking her pills," I said.
"But I never thought anyone could have tampered with them.""
Detective Brooks wrote something down.
"Did she ever identify a person she suspected?""
"Not to me.""
I pointed to the final line.
"But she told me to ask my brother what he witnessed that night.""
The detective looked up.
"Your brother was present when your wife died?""
"No. At least, that's what I believed.""
She closed her notebook.
"Then we need to establish exactly where he was.""
I called Michael.
He answered on the first ring.
"Daniel?""
"Emily left me a note.""
The silence on the other end was immediate.
"What kind of note?""
"She wrote that if anything happened to her, I shouldn't let anyone convince me it was an accident. Then she told me to ask you what you witnessed that night.""
Michael exhaled sharply.
"Where did you find that?""
"Sophie found it in Vanessa's bag.""
"What?""
"She took Emily's jewelry box from my study. Michael, why would Vanessa have my wife's belongings?""
"I don't know.""
"Why did Emily write your name?""
He didn't answer.
I stared at the phone.
"Michael, I'm giving you one chance to tell me the truth before Detective Brooks starts asking questions herself.""
His voice dropped.
"I was at the hospital that night.""
Everything inside me went still.
"What?""
"The night Emily died. I was there.""
I gripped the edge of the table.
"You told me you were at home.""
"I know.""
"You told me you hadn't been able to get there in time.""
"I lied.""
I stood so abruptly that the chair scraped across the floor.
"Why?""
"Because Emily asked me to.""
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"She was dying, Michael. She was my wife. And you let me believe you weren't there?""
"I thought I was protecting you.""
"Stop saying that!""
My voice echoed through the room.
Detective Brooks looked up from her notes.
I forced myself to lower my voice.
"Tell me what happened at that hospital.""
Michael was quiet for several seconds.
Then he began.
"I arrived around nine that evening. Emily was awake, but she was frightened. She kept asking whether someone had touched her medication.""
My mouth went dry.
"Who?""
"She wouldn't tell me. She said she didn't have proof and didn't want you accusing someone without evidence.""
"Did she say Vanessa's name?""
"No. Vanessa wasn't in our lives then.""
"Then what did you witness?""
Michael took a shaky breath.
"An orderly came into the room carrying a medication tray. Emily refused to take what he offered her. She said the pills looked different from the ones she'd been given earlier.""
I closed my eyes.
"What happened next?""
"Emily asked me to photograph the medication label. I did. Then I went to find her nurse.""
"And?""
"When I returned, the orderly was gone. Emily had taken the medication, and she was struggling to breathe.""
My knees weakened.
"Did you call for help?""
"Yes. The nurses came running. They worked on her for almost twenty minutes.""
I could barely hear him over the pounding in my ears.
"Did she say anything?""
Michael's voice broke.
"She grabbed my wrist and told me to keep Sophie safe. Then she said, 'Don't let him believe this was his fault.''"
I pressed my hand against my mouth.
For three years, I'd blamed myself for not noticing how quickly Emily had deteriorated. I'd replayed every hospital visit, every conversation, every decision.
And my brother had carried the memory of her final hours alone.
"Why didn't you tell the police?"" I whispered.
"Because the hospital reviewed the incident and said there was no evidence of wrongdoing. They said her condition was unpredictable. I was grieving, Daniel. I didn't know what to believe.""
"And the photograph?""
"I kept it.""
"Where is it?""
"In a locked box at my apartment.""
I looked at Detective Brooks.
She had stopped writing.
"Michael," I said, "don't touch that box. The detective will arrange to collect it.""
"Daniel, there's something else.""
I felt sick.
"What?""
"Before Emily died, she told me someone had accessed her prescription records without authorization.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"Who?""
"I never found out.""
"Then how did Vanessa know about the letter?""
"I don't know.""
I stared at the paper on the table.
The name Emily had written on the back was not Michael's.
It was the name of the pharmacy where her prescriptions had been filled.
And beside it, in smaller handwriting, she'd added a date.
The date was two days before she died.
Detective Brooks leaned forward.
"Mr. Carter, I think we need to establish whether your wife's death was ever investigated beyond the hospital's internal review.""
Before I could answer, my phone vibrated.
An unknown number had sent a message.
Stop digging into Emily's death. Vanessa isn't the only person who knows what happened.
May you like
A second message appeared.
Ask your brother who paid the orderly.
