Chapter 8
I filed for divorce the next morning.
Derek didn't fight it.
He didn't ask for the house.
He didn't ask for money.
He simply signed.
Before leaving, he stood in the doorway.
“I know I don't deserve another chance.”
I looked at him.
“No.”
He nodded.
“But I want to become someone Lily would never be afraid of.”
“We don't have children.”
“I know.”
He looked at the floor.
“I meant the family I destroyed.”
I didn't answer.
He left.
For the first time in three years, the house was silent.
Not empty.
Silent.
There was a difference.
The investigators continued searching Linda's records.
They found payments to Dr. Sloan.
Private investigators.
Lawyers.
And a former employee who had been helping her access the company accounts.
Then they found something unexpected.
A safe-deposit box.
The key had been hidden inside Linda's birthday cake decorations.
Inside the box was a stack of letters.
All addressed to me.
None had been delivered.
One was from my father.
One from James.
One from Derek.
And one was from my mother.
I opened hers last.
Emily,
I know you will hate me.
You should.
I didn't protect you.
I let fear decide everything.
But I need you to know why.
Linda came to me after your father's disappearance.
She told me she could destroy you.
She had people watching you.
She knew where you worked.
She knew where you lived.
She knew who you loved.
And she told me that if I spoke, you would pay.
I believed her.
The next paragraph made me stop.
But there was another reason.
Your father had discovered that Linda wasn't acting alone.
She had help.
I turned the page.
The name was there.
Dr. Sloan.
But underneath it was another.
Derek.
I froze.
My husband had been involved from the beginning.
Not knowingly in everything.
But enough.
The letter continued.
Derek was twenty-six.
He had debts.
Linda paid them.
Then she told him what he had to do.
Marry you.
Gain your trust.
Keep you away from your father.
And make sure you remained married until thirty.
I closed my eyes.
Everything came together.
The expensive dates.
The sudden proposal.
The insistence that I move into the Mercer house.
Linda's constant criticism.
Her obsession with my behavior.
The guardianship documents.
The trust.
Even the birthday dinner.
Sixty dishes.
It hadn't been about food.
It had been a test.
She wanted to see if I still obeyed.
And when I finally said no, Derek used force.
That was the moment they lost control.
A detective called.
“We found the original contract.”
I went to the station.
He placed it on the table.
I read it.
There was my father's signature.
Linda's.
Derek's.
And one final signature.
Dr. Sloan.
But there was something strange.
The contract had been amended.
I looked closer.
The amendment was dated six months after my wedding.
The handwriting was different.
“Who added this?”
The detective pointed to the signature.
“Linda.”
“What does it say?”
I read it aloud.
“Upon Emily's voluntary separation from Derek Mercer, all trust control immediately transfers to the beneficiary.”
I stared.
“Then why did she try to stop me from leaving?”
The detective smiled faintly.
“She didn't understand the amendment.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“She thought the original contract was still valid.”
That meant something.
Linda had spent three years controlling me because she believed leaving would cost me everything.
But my father had secretly changed the rules.
He had protected me without me knowing.
The detective handed me another document.
“Your father amended the trust after your wedding.”
I read it.
The beneficiary had changed.
Not me.
Not Derek.
Me.
And only me.
Linda had never controlled anything.
She had only convinced everyone she did.
I laughed.
Then I cried.
Not because I had lost.
Because I realized how long I had been afraid of something that wasn't real.
Then my phone rang.
It was Michael.
“Emily.”
“Yes?”
“We found something.”
“What?”
“Your father's old property records.”
“And?”
“The house wasn't the only thing he bought.”
I sat down.
“What else?”
“A second property.”
“Where?”
Michael hesitated.
“Right next door to Linda's childhood home.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
“We don't know.”
Then he said:
“There's a basement.”
I whispered:
“What is in it?”
May you like
Michael answered:
“Everything Linda thought she destroyed.”
