Chapter 6 - The Funeral He Missed.
By noon, Maya had told six people that Lilly was dead and still had not heard from David.
Her sister, Claire, arrived from Philadelphia before sunset and found Maya sitting on the floor of Lilly's bedroom with a stack of folded pajamas in her lap.
Claire did not ask why Maya was folding clothes that no longer needed to be worn.
She simply sat beside her and helped.
Maya told her about the fifty calls.
She told her about Julianne.
She told her about the trust account.
Claire listened without interrupting until Maya showed her David's final text.
Enjoy the drama without me.
Claire read it twice.
"Save everything."
Maya nodded.
"I already did."
"Not just screenshots."
Claire took Maya's phone gently.
"Back it up somewhere he cannot access."
That night they changed the passwords to Maya's email, cloud storage, bank login, and home security system.
They downloaded the call history as a PDF.
They exported the message thread.
They saved the voice notes Maya had sent from the ICU.
Maya hated how quickly grief had turned into evidence preservation.
She hated David for making caution necessary.
At 9:30 p.m., Eleanor came to the house.
David's mother brought a casserole, three sympathy cards, and an expression that seemed carefully arranged.
She cried when she entered Lilly's room.
She held one of Lilly's stuffed rabbits against her chest and whispered that the world made no sense.
For half an hour, Maya almost forgot their morning conversation.
Then Eleanor followed her into the kitchen.
"Have you heard from David?"
Maya shook her head.
Eleanor looked down.
"Neither have I."
Maya studied her face.
"Did you call him?"
"Several times."
"Did you message him that Lilly died?"
Eleanor hesitated.
"I sent something."
"What did you send?"
"I told him there had been a tragedy and that he needed to contact me immediately."
Maya stared at her.
"Why didn't you say Lilly died?"
Eleanor's jaw tightened.
"Because I did not want him learning that in a text if he was somewhere alone."
Claire, standing at the sink, turned slowly.
"He isn't alone."
Eleanor ignored her.
Maya felt exhaustion press against her anger.
"He is with the woman he is sleeping with."
"We do not know the full story."
"I heard her at the airport."
"People make terrible decisions when marriages are under strain."
Maya went still.
"Our daughter died yesterday."
Eleanor closed her eyes.
"I know."
"Then do not explain his affair to me."
Eleanor lowered her voice.
"I am trying to keep this family from being destroyed twice in one week."
Maya almost laughed.
"David already destroyed it."
Eleanor's expression hardened for the first time.
"He is still Lilly's father."
"He was her father when the phone rang."
The kitchen fell silent.
Eleanor left ten minutes later.
Before walking out, she asked Maya not to speak to police until David could explain the trust transfers.
Maya told her the bank had already made a referral.
Eleanor looked frightened.
That fear told Maya more than any argument could have.
The funeral was scheduled for the following Wednesday.
Maya waited three days before choosing the photograph for the memorial program.
She chose one from the previous summer at a county fair.
Lilly was laughing with blue cotton candy on her chin and one hand lifted toward the camera as if she were trying to stop the picture.
Maya refused to use the formal school portrait.
She wanted people to remember movement.
The day before the service, David's sister Nicole arrived.
Nicole was younger than David by four years and had always treated Maya with the nervous friendliness of someone trying not to stand between two stronger personalities.
She entered the house crying.
Maya embraced her because Lilly had adored her.
Nicole held on too long.
When she finally stepped back, her face was pale.
"I need to tell you something."
Maya's stomach tightened.
Nicole sat at the kitchen table.
"David texted me from Miami before he flew to Nassau."
Maya did not sit.
"When?"
"A little after three."
That was less than an hour after Maya told David that Lilly was in the ICU.
Nicole unlocked her phone with trembling fingers.
The message was still there.
David had written: Maya is spiraling again. If she calls you, don't feed it. I need two weeks without the family drama.
Maya read it once.
Then again.
"What did you say?"
Nicole began crying harder.
"I asked what was wrong."
Her reply appeared below his message.
Is Lilly okay?
David had answered: She's at the hospital but doctors are handling it. Maya wants me to cancel everything like always.
Nicole whispered, "I believed him."
Maya looked at the timestamp.
David had known Lilly was in the hospital.
He had known Maya was begging him to stay.
He had not merely missed information.
He had built a story in which every warning was proof that Maya was unreasonable.
"Did you contact him after Lilly died?"
Nicole nodded.
"I called six times."
"Did you tell him?"
Nicole looked at Maya with shame.
"I sent it directly."
She opened another message.
11:02 a.m. the morning after Lilly's death.
David, Lilly died last night. This is real. Call Mom. Call Maya. Please come home.
The message showed one gray checkmark, then later two.
Delivered.
Not read.
Maya exhaled slowly.
David had disabled read receipts after the ICU night.
No one could prove whether he had opened it.
But there was another message below.
David had replied two days later.
I told everyone I was offline. I am not engaging with manufactured emergencies.
Maya's hands began to shake.
Nicole covered her face.
"I should have kept calling."
Maya sat beside her.
"You are not the person who needed fifty calls."
The funeral took place beneath a sky so bright it seemed offensive.
Every seat in the small chapel was filled.
Lilly's teacher came with her classmates' handwritten notes.
Dr. Singh stood in the back row.
Two ICU nurses attended after working overnight.
David's chair in the front remained empty.
Eleanor kept looking toward the door until the service began.
No one entered.
Maya did not speak about David during the memorial.
She spoke about Lilly collecting smooth stones in her pockets.
She spoke about Lilly believing pancakes tasted better when shaped like stars.
She spoke about a child who apologized to spiders before asking Maya to move them outside.
At the end, Maya placed a perfect white shell beside the urn.
She had bought it from a beach shop because David had never brought one home.
After the service, a man Maya did not recognize waited beside the chapel doors.
He wore a navy suit and carried a slim leather folder.
"Mrs. Mercer?"
Maya nodded.
He showed identification.
"My name is Thomas Keene. I'm an investigator with the financial crimes unit at Harbor National Bank."
Maya looked toward Lilly's urn being carried to the funeral director's car.
"Today?"
Keene's expression softened.
"I am sorry. I would not approach you here if it were not important."
He opened the folder.
"We found something in the authorization records that changes the nature of the case."
Maya felt Claire move closer behind her.
Keene pointed to a document bearing Maya's forged signature.
"The digital certificate used to sign this did not come from your device."
He turned the page.
"It came from a laptop registered to David Mercer's company."
Maya's grief sharpened into focus.
May you like
Keene looked at her carefully.
"And that is not the worst part."
