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…
He squeezed her hand firmly. «Be careful, don’t provoke him. Pretend you know nothing. As soon as I have the pill analysis results, I’ll start official action.»
Emily nodded, feeling both fear and relief. Now she wasn’t alone.
«I have to go,» she said, looking at the clock. «The movers are due.»
Alex walked her to the door. «I’ll be in touch. And remember, your safety is more important than any evidence.»
Emily caught a cab, gave the address of her office. Needed to make it seem like she was returning from there.
On the way, she checked her phone. Three missed calls from Michael. She didn’t call back. Let him think she was in a meeting.
Approaching the house, Emily saw a truck at the gate. Movers were carrying out furniture from Olivia’s room.
Her heart clenched in pain. The material traces of her daughter’s presence were disappearing before her eyes.
Michael stood at the entrance, directing the process. Seeing his wife, he quickly approached. «Where were you? I called several times.»
«Sorry, there was a meeting.» Emily tried to speak calmly. «Then had to go to accounting, sign vacation papers.»
Michael looked at her closely, as if trying to catch a lie. «I was worried. Thought you felt bad.»
«I’m fine.» Emily tried to smile. «Just a lot piled up.»
She went into the house, trying not to look at the movers carrying out Olivia’s things.
Went up to their bedroom, took off her coat. Michael followed her. «I’ve packed almost everything. Left the small stuff in her closet and dresser.»
Emily nodded, not trusting her voice. How could he be so cold-blooded? How could he methodically destroy all traces of the life of the girl he raised since she was eight?
«I’ll finish myself,» she said finally. «I need to say goodbye.»
Michael hesitated, then nodded. «Okay. I’ll be downstairs, overseeing the loading.»
When he left, Emily quietly went to the bathroom. Needed to retrieve the backpack with original documents from the vent.
She turned on the water to muffle the sound and carefully removed the vent grate. Empty. The backpack was gone.
Emily felt a chill inside. He found it. Michael discovered the hiding spot and took the evidence.
When? How? She was sure he hadn’t gone into the bathroom after she hid the documents. Unless… Unless he had been watching her all along. Unless he knew from the start that she found Olivia’s box.
With trembling hands, Emily replaced the grate. What now? Run? But where? And what if he already disposed of the documents? Then she’d only have copies on her phone. Not enough for a murder charge.
She came out of the bathroom and froze. Michael stood in the bedroom doorway. «Looking for something?» he asked in a deceptively soft voice.
«No, just washing up.» Emily tried to speak calmly. But her heart pounded so hard, it seemed he must hear it.
Michael slowly entered the room. «Strange. It seemed to me you were searching in the vent.»
He knew. All this time he knew and played with her like a cat with a mouse.
«There was mold there,» Emily lied. «I noticed yesterday, wanted to check if it got worse.»
Michael smiled a cold, alien smile. «Mold, of course. And not this, by chance?»
He pulled a flash drive from his pocket, the very one from the box with Olivia’s documents. «Where’s the backpack?» Emily asked, realizing pretending further was pointless.
«In a safe place,» Michael tossed the flash drive in his palm. «Like the rest of the papers. You know, Olivia was a smart girl, too smart for her own good. And you’re following in her footsteps.»
He took a step toward her. «Who did you meet today? Don’t say you were at work. I called there. You were seen in the morning, but then you left through the back door.»
Emily backed toward the window. «I met a friend. I needed to talk it out.»
«Lying!» Michael shook his head. «You’re lying all the time. You think I don’t see? You think I don’t notice how you’ve changed in the last two days?»
He approached closer. «You found Olivia’s box, read the documents, and now you’re plotting against me.»
Emily felt her back hit the windowsill. No further retreat. «You killed her,» she said, looking him in the eyes. «Killed our daughter for money.»
«Ours?» Michael smirked. «She was never my daughter. Spoiled, arrogant brat, always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. She became an obstacle.»
He spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather or utility bills.
Emily realized with horror that she completely didn’t know the man she had lived with for twenty years.
«An obstacle for what?» she asked, hoping the microphone was recording every word…
