Right after our daughter’s funeral, my husband insisted on quickly throwing out all her things from the kids’ room, but while cleaning, I found her note…
«Look, Mom, it’s just like the one that actress from the series wears!»
Emily pressed the dress to her face, inhaling the faint scent of her daughter, a mix of her perfume and something intangibly familiar.
Michael entered without knocking.
Seeing Emily with the dress, he frowned and quickly approached, snatching the fabric from her hands. «This isn’t needed by anyone anymore! Don’t torture yourself!»
He tossed the dress into the open bag for charity and left without waiting for a response.
Emily remained sitting, staring at the closed door.
Something was happening. Something she didn’t understand.
Her gaze fell on Olivia’s school backpack, tossed by the desk.
Emily pulled it toward her, unzipped it. Inside were textbooks, notebooks, a pencil case with colorful pens. All so ordinary. So alive.
She took out the biology textbook, the most worn one, with many bookmarks. Olivia loved that subject.
Flipping through the pages, Emily noticed an inserted sheet. Not a bookmark, a note, folded in quarters.
Unfolding it, Emily saw her daughter’s handwriting, uneven, as if written in haste or agitation.
«Mommy, if you’re reading this, urgently look under the bed, and you’ll understand everything.»
Her heart skipped a beat. Emily reread the note three times, not believing her eyes.
What did this mean, when did Olivia write it, and what was she supposed to understand?
Glancing at the door, Emily dropped to her knees and looked under the bed. In the far corner, almost at the wall, she noticed something dark. A box, taped to the bed frame.
As she reached for it, footsteps sounded in the hallway from Michael.
By dinner, Emily came down with a carefully rehearsed expression, a mix of grief and fatigue, behind which she could hide fear. Michael was already waiting at the table.
He had ordered food from a restaurant, her favorite pasta with seafood. «You haven’t eaten almost anything since yesterday,» he said, filling the glasses with wine. «You need to keep your strength up.»
Emily sat opposite, feeling like an actress in a deadly dangerous play. Every gesture, every word could give her away. She had hidden the backpack with the documents in the ventilation shaft in the bathroom, the only place Michael definitely wouldn’t look.
«Thanks.» She took the fork, forcing herself to eat. «You’re right, I need to eat.»
Michael watched her with a slight smile. Before, that smile seemed warm, familiar to her. Now she saw something predatory in it.
«I spoke with the school principal,» he said, sipping wine. «They’re collecting money for a memorial plaque for Olivia, want to install it in the biology classroom.»
Emily nodded, fighting back approaching tears.
Olivia loved biology so much, dreamed of becoming a marine biologist, studying dolphins.
«That’s good,» she said, «she would have liked that kind of memory.»
«I made a donation on our behalf, a large sum. I think it’s right.»
Emily looked closely at her husband. Where did he get the money for a «large sum» if the documents Olivia found spoke of serious debts? Only if the «insurance,» he had already received the money for their daughter’s death.
«Very generous of you,» she said, trying to keep her voice even, especially considering our financial situation.
Michael froze for a moment, then casually shrugged. Business at the firm is going better lately, besides, there are things more important than money.
He raised his glass, as if toasting. «To the memory of Olivia! And to our future!»
Emily raised her glass, but at that moment noticed a strange movement of Michael’s hand. He turned away for a second, and it seemed to her that he dropped something into her wine, or was it her imagination, paranoia after everything she had learned.
«To the memory!» she echoed, but didn’t drink, only clinked glasses with him.
Michael didn’t take his eyes off her, waiting for her to take a sip. Emily set the glass down, returned to her food.
«I’m so tired today, probably going to bed early.»
«Drink the wine!» Michael said insistently. «It will help you relax. I specially chose your favorite.»
Emily smiled through force. «Thanks, but I think alcohol will only make my headache worse right now. Better to take a sedative.»
She stood from the table, feeling her back muscles tense under his gaze, without turning, went upstairs to the bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it, shaking with fear.
He had spiked the wine, she was almost sure. What was it? Sleeping pills? Or something more dangerous? Maybe he decided not to wait six months, but to speed things up?
Emily went to the bathroom, locked the door, and retrieved the backpack with documents from the ventilation shaft. She needed to make copies, hide them in different places. If something happened to her, the evidence had to reach the police.
She took out her phone and began photographing each document, every page of correspondence. Then uploaded everything to cloud storage and sent copies to her work email. After thinking, she created a new email account and sent copies there, writing down the login details on a scrap of paper, which she hid in her makeup bag.
Finishing, Emily heard Michael’s footsteps. He was coming up the stairs. Quickly returning the backpack to the hiding spot, she turned on the faucet, pretending to wash up.
The bedroom door opened; Emily turned off the water, wiped her face with a towel, and came out of the bathroom. Michael sat on the edge of the bed with pills and a glass of water. «Brought your sedative,» he said.
«You forgot it downstairs.»..
