CHAPTER 4 — THE FIRST LIE UNRAVELS
CHAPTER 4 — THE FIRST LIE UNRAVELS
Someone had been inside our garage.
The lock wasn't broken.
Nothing else was missing.
Only the folder Liam had hidden.
Which meant whoever took it knew exactly where to look.
My hands began shaking.
This wasn't random.
Someone had entered our home searching for evidence.
I called the police.
An officer arrived within thirty minutes.
He walked through the garage, examined the toolbox, and asked the obvious questions.
"Do you know anyone who might want these documents?"
I answered without thinking.
"My family."
He looked up.
"That's a serious accusation."
"I know."
"What was in the folder?"
"I don't know."
"My husband never told me."
The officer sighed.
"Without proof of a break-in or evidence that documents existed, there's not much we can do."
He handed me his card.
"If you remember anything else, call."
As he drove away, I felt completely alone.
Three days later I met with the attorney who had originally handled my father's estate.
His name was Harold Benson.
He looked uncomfortable from the moment I entered his office.
"I've been expecting you."
That sentence immediately caught my attention.
"Expecting me?"
He folded his hands.
"Your husband contacted me."
"When?"
"About six weeks ago."
My pulse quickened.
"What did he ask?"
"He requested certified copies of your father's original will."
"And?"
Harold hesitated.
"I couldn't provide them."
"Why not?"
"They were missing."
The room became silent.
"My father's original will... disappeared?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"We discovered it shortly after your mother's visit last year."
I stared at him.
"My mother had access to the file?"
Harold slowly nodded.
"She requested several estate documents."
"And no one thought that was suspicious?"
"At the time... no."
Then Harold opened a locked filing cabinet.
"I shouldn't even have this."
He removed an old envelope.
Inside was a photocopy.
Not the original.
A copy he had made years earlier.
My eyes immediately filled with tears.
Across the top were my father's unmistakable words.
LAST WILL AND TESTAMENT OF RICHARD MILLER
Harold pointed toward one paragraph.
"Read this."
I did.
"My residence shall pass equally to my beloved children, Emily Miller Harper and Julian Miller, each holding an equal fifty-percent ownership interest. Neither beneficiary may be removed without written consent from the other."
I read it again.
Then a third time.
Exactly as Dad had promised.
Exactly as I remembered.
My mother had lied.
For an entire year.
Harold leaned forward.
"There's something else."
"What?"
"Your husband believed someone forged a property transfer after your father's death."
My breathing stopped.
"He showed me copies."
"Were they fake?"
"I believed they warranted a forensic handwriting examination."
"So why didn't you report it?"
Harold looked ashamed.
"Because before I could act..."
He swallowed hard.
"...your husband died."
As I left the attorney's office, my phone buzzed.
Unknown number.
I answered.
No one spoke.
Then...
A man's voice.
Low.
Calm.
"If you care about your baby..."
My heart slammed against my ribs.
"...stop asking questions about Richard Miller."
The line went dead.
I stood frozen on the sidewalk.
Someone knew I was investigating.
Someone knew I was pregnant.
Someone was watching me.
And across the street...
Parked beside a coffee shop...
Was the same black SUV Liam had never noticed before his death.
This time...
May you like
The engine started.
And it slowly began following me home.
