Chapter 1 - The Signature Before the Funeral
The final page Grace handed me carried my brother’s name in black ink.
Marcus Hale.
My younger brother.
My best man.
The man who had stood beside me at Emily’s funeral and held my shoulder while I tried to explain death to a three-year-old boy.
I read the date beneath his signature.
Then I read it again.
The document had been prepared eleven days before Emily died.
My stomach turned.
“That’s impossible.”
Grace remained beside Noah near the desk.
Her face was still swollen where Victoria had struck her.
“I wish it was.”
Victoria stood between two security guards at the doorway.
For the first time since I had known her, she wasn’t pretending to cry.
She looked furious.
Not frightened.
Not ashamed.
Furious that we had found something.
I looked at the petition again.
Marcus had described me as increasingly unstable.
He claimed I drank excessively.
He claimed I disappeared for days.
He claimed Emily had privately expressed fear that I might become dangerous around Noah.
Every accusation was a lie.
Worse, every accusation had been written while Emily was still alive.
“Why would Marcus prepare this before Emily died?”
Victoria said nothing.
I turned toward her.
“Answer me.”
Her mouth curved into something almost resembling a smile.
“You still think Marcus is the one you should be afraid of?”
The guards tightened their grip on her arms.
Grace stepped closer to Noah.
“What does that mean?”
Victoria looked directly at Grace.
“You should have stayed a nanny.”
Then she looked at me.
“And you should have married me when you had the chance.”
A police siren sounded beyond the estate gates.
Victoria’s confidence flickered.
I moved closer.
“What happened to Emily?”
She stared at me for several seconds.
Then she whispered,
“Ask your brother where he was the night before she died.”
My phone began ringing.
The name on the screen made every muscle in my body tighten.
MARCUS.
Victoria saw it.
This time she actually laughed.
“Perfect timing.”
I answered.
“Daniel?”
Marcus sounded breathless.
“I just heard you came home early.”
I looked at Victoria.
“How?”
Silence.
Then Marcus spoke more carefully.
“Victoria called me.”
“She’s standing ten feet away from me.”
Another silence.
“Daniel, whatever you think you saw, don’t do anything stupid.”
My grip tightened around the phone.
“I found Emily’s drawer.”
Marcus stopped breathing.
I could hear it.
The instant change.
The silence of a man whose secret had just been exposed.
“What drawer?”
“You know exactly which drawer.”
“Daniel, listen to me.”
“No.”
I stared at Emily’s frozen image on the laptop.
“You listen to me.”
“You signed documents eleven days before my wife died claiming I was unfit to raise my son.”
Marcus’s voice lowered.
“Those papers were never supposed to be filed.”
“But they were.”
“I can explain.”
“Then come explain it to the police.”
He hung up.
Thirty seconds later, the security supervisor rushed into the room.
“Mr. Hale.”
“What?”
“Your brother just used his access code at the east gate.”
I stared toward the window.
Marcus wasn’t running away.
He was coming here.
And somehow that terrified me even more.
Because men with something to hide usually fled.
May you like
Marcus was coming directly toward the evidence.
And that meant there was still something inside my house he needed badly enough to risk everything for.
