Chapter 4
I let Rachel inside.
Not because I trusted her.
Because my legs would no longer hold me.
Noah sat beside me on the couch.
Rachel took the chair across from us.
Nobody spoke for several seconds.
Then I said, “Start from the beginning.”
Rachel looked at Noah.
“Maybe he shouldn’t hear this.”
“He heard enough to save me from signing away Dad’s money.”
She lowered her eyes.
“Fine.”
I folded my arms.
“Marcus Bell.”
Rachel nodded.
“Dad invested in a renovation project about eight years ago.”
My father had always loved real estate.
Not big developments.
Old houses.
Duplexes.
Small apartment buildings.
He liked taking something forgotten and making it useful again.
“Mark was involved?”
“He was the contractor.”
“As Marcus Bell.”
“Yes.”
“Why the different name?”
“He legally changed it later.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I’m telling you what I know.”
“Then keep going.”
Rachel took a breath.
“The project went bad. Permits, subcontractors, delays. Dad accused Marcus of billing for work that wasn’t completed.”
“How much?”
“Thirty-eight thousand.”
The same amount Thomas had mentioned.
Almost.
“So Mark stole Dad’s money.”
“Dad thought so.”
“And you knew.”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Because Dad asked me to help organize his paperwork when he got sick.”
I stared at her.
“You let me marry him.”
Her eyes filled immediately.
“I didn’t know Mark was Marcus at first.”
“When did you find out?”
She didn’t answer.
My voice rose.
“When?”
“Three weeks before your wedding.”
Everything inside me went numb.
Noah whispered, “Mom.”
I held up one hand.
I couldn’t look at him.
“Three weeks.”
Rachel started crying.
“I was going to tell you.”
“But you didn’t.”
“Mark came to me first.”
“How did he know you knew?”
“I confronted him.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You confronted him instead of me.”
“I panicked.”
“What did he say?”
“He said the money wasn’t stolen. He said Dad had agreed to cover some project losses and then changed his mind when he got sick.”
“Did you believe him?”
“At first.”
I stared at her.
“You really expect me to believe that?”
“No.”
She wiped her cheeks.
“I expect you to hate me.”
“Good.”
She flinched.
Noah shifted beside me.
Rachel continued.
“Mark showed me invoices. Emails. Documents.”
“Real ones?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“And that was enough for you to keep quiet while I married him?”
“He told me if I exposed him, you would lose everything.”
I almost laughed.
“I had nothing then.”
“You had Noah.”
My anger sharpened.
“Don’t use my son.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
She looked at him.
“I’m sorry.”
Noah said nothing.
Rachel turned back to me.
“Mark knew Noah’s biological father had started contacting you again.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Noah’s father?”
My son sat up.
“My dad?”
I had always told Noah the truth in simple terms.
His biological father, Eric Lawson, had left when Noah was two.
For years, there had been almost no contact.
A birthday card once.
A social media message twice.
Nothing more.
“He contacted me?” I asked.
Rachel nodded slowly.
“When?”
“Before your wedding.”
“Why didn’t I know?”
“Because Mark intercepted it.”
I felt like I had been punched.
“How?”
“Eric emailed you.”
“That email account was mine.”
“Mark had your password.”
Of course he did.
Back then, we shared everything.
Passwords.
Bills.
Phones.
I trusted him.
“What did Eric want?”
“He said he was sober.”
Noah’s breathing changed.
I turned toward him.
His face was white.
“Sweetheart.”
He stood.
“No.”
“Noah.”
“My dad tried to find me?”
Rachel whispered, “Yes.”
Noah looked at me.
“You knew?”
“No.”
“You swear?”
“I swear.”
He stared at my face.
Then ran upstairs.
“Noah!”
His bedroom door slammed.
I turned on Rachel.
“How dare you?”
She cried harder.
“I’m sorry.”
“You knew?”
“I found out later.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
I stood up.
She stood too.
“Lisa, please.”
“You knew my son’s father tried to come back into his life and said nothing for two years?”
“Mark said Eric was dangerous.”
“Was he?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know.”
“No.”
“And you believed Mark.”
“Yes.”
“Again.”
She lowered her head.
“Again.”
I walked toward the kitchen because if I stayed close to her, I was afraid I would scream.
Rachel followed.
“Lisa, the eight thousand dollars wasn’t supposed to happen.”
I turned.
“That’s your defense?”
“No. I mean Mark wasn’t supposed to take it.”
“But you knew he needed money.”
“Yes.”
“For his company?”
Rachel hesitated.
“No.”
My stomach dropped.
“What for?”
“He owes someone.”
“Who?”
“I don’t know his name.”
“Then what do you know?”
“He showed up at my apartment six months ago.”
“Mark?”
“Yes. He was terrified.”
I had never seen Mark afraid of anything.
“What did he say?”
“That someone from the old project had come back.”
“What old project?”
“Dad’s.”
I stared.
“He said if he didn’t repay the money, everything would come out.”
“So he wanted Dad’s account.”
“He wanted your inheritance.”
“And you told him how to get it.”
“I told him you would never hand it over.”
“So you suggested tricking me.”
Rachel’s voice broke.
“Yes.”
The honesty stunned me.
At least she had stopped pretending.
“Why?”
“Because he threatened me.”
I stared at her.
“With what?”
She looked toward the stairs.
Then back at me.
“He knows what I did the night Dad died.”
My heart started pounding.
“What did you do?”
She covered her mouth.
For a moment, no sound came out.
Then she whispered, “I was there.”
The room blurred.
“At the hospital?”
“No.”
“Where?”
“At Dad’s house.”
I remembered Dad had been taken to the hospital by ambulance around ten that night.
I had assumed he’d been alone when he called 911.
Rachel shook.
“I went over around eight.”
“Why?”
“He called me.”
“About the missing money.”
She nodded.
“He was angry.”
“What happened?”
“He accused me of taking it.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Rachel.”
“I swear.”
“Then who did?”
“I didn’t know then.”
“And now?”
She looked straight at me.
“Mark.”
I stopped breathing.
“He stole from Dad?”
“Yes.”
“How do you know?”
“I found the transfer records.”
“When?”
“That night.”
I gripped the counter.
“Dad had discovered transfers to a shell company. I recognized the company name because Mark had shown me some old project paperwork before your wedding.”
“You knew before I married him.”
“I suspected.”
“You knew enough.”
“Yes.”
“What happened that night?”
“Dad told me he was going to the police.”
I swallowed.
“And?”
“I begged him to wait.”
“Why?”
“Because your wedding was already over by then. You and Mark had been married almost a year. Noah adored him.”
I stared at her in disbelief.
“You protected Mark?”
“I thought I was protecting you.”
“Stop saying that.”
She flinched.
“What happened next?”
“Dad got angry. He said I had no right to decide what truth you could handle.”
A painful laugh escaped me.
“At least somebody in this family understood that.”
Rachel cried silently.
“He started having chest pain.”
My blood went cold.
“I called 911.”
“Immediately?”
She didn’t answer.
“How long?”
“Lisa—”
“How long?”
“Maybe ten minutes.”
My knees weakened.
“Ten minutes?”
“I panicked.”
“You waited ten minutes while Dad was having a heart attack?”
“I thought it was anxiety at first.”
“He had a heart condition!”
“I know!”
Her voice cracked through the kitchen.
“I know!”
Noah appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
His eyes were red.
Neither of us had heard him come down.
Rachel whispered, “I’ve lived with that every day.”
I stared at her.
“You left before the ambulance came?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Dad told me to.”
“What?”
“He didn’t want you to know I’d been there.”
“That makes no sense.”
“He said you had already lost enough.”
I shook my head.
“Why would he protect you?”
“He was my father too.”
The words hurt because they were true.
She looked exhausted.
“He made me promise to tell you everything after he recovered.”
“But he didn’t recover.”
“No.”
“And you stayed silent.”
“Yes.”
“Six years.”
“Yes.”
I walked away.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Normally I wouldn’t have answered.
But nothing felt normal anymore.
“Hello?”
A man said, “Is this Lisa Bennett?”
“Who is this?”
“My name is Eric Lawson.”
My heart stopped.
Across the room, Noah froze.
The voice continued.
“I’m Noah’s father.”
I couldn’t speak.
Eric sounded nervous.
“I know this is out of nowhere, but someone sent me a message last night.”
I looked at Rachel.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did it say?”
He paused.
“It said, ‘If you still want to know your son, now is the time.’”
I looked at Noah.
His eyes widened.
May you like
Then Eric said something that made Rachel grip the back of the chair.
“And it included a photograph of Mark standing outside my apartment.”
