Chapter 2 - The Message on the Screen
Emily spent the night at a hotel near the river.
Maisie refused to sleep unless Emily held her.
Every time the child closed her eyes, she woke again, reaching toward the unfamiliar darkness and crying for the bedroom she knew.
Emily sat beside the window until dawn, rocking her daughter while the city lights blurred through her tears.
Director Beck had offered to contact military legal assistance immediately.
Emily asked him to wait.
She needed to understand what Peter was doing before he knew she was investigating.
The next morning, Peter sent a message.
Your remaining property will be outside the garage at noon. Do not enter the house.
Emily read it twice.
Remaining property.
As if eighteen months of marriage, a child and seven years together could be reduced to boxes on a driveway.
At eleven forty-five, she parked around the corner from Ashford Manor.
She wore civilian clothes and left Maisie with Captain Nora Ruiz, a trusted colleague who lived nearby.
The brass key Lydia had given her fit the old service entrance behind the kitchen.
Emily stepped inside.
The house was silent.
The drawing room had been cleaned.
The DNA report was gone.
Several framed photographs had also disappeared, including every picture containing Emily.
She went upstairs and entered Maisie’s nursery.
The crib had been stripped.
Half the child’s clothes were packed into black garbage bags.
Emily stood in the doorway, unable to breathe.
On the changing table lay Maisie’s stuffed fox, the toy she had slept with since she was three months old.
Peter had not even remembered to pack it.
Emily placed it inside her bag.
As she turned to leave, she heard a faint electronic chime from Peter’s office.
His laptop was open on the desk.
The screen displayed a password field.
Peter had changed his password three times during their marriage, but he always used variations of the same date.
The date his father died.
Emily entered it.
The desktop appeared.
A message notification opened in the corner.
Everything worked. Once she’s out, she can’t interfere with Monday.
The sender’s name was hidden behind an encrypted contact label.
Emily photographed the message.
Another reply appeared.
Did she believe the report?
Peter responded almost immediately.
She denied it, but the family backed me. Beck showed up unexpectedly.
The unknown person typed again.
Beck is dangerous. Do not let him see the transfer documents.
Emily’s pulse quickened.
She opened the recent-files menu.
Most documents had generic names, but one folder was labeled Monday.
Inside were property-transfer agreements, corporate resolutions and trust amendments.
The first document transferred Ashford Manor to a holding company called Northstar Residential Partners.
The second transferred Emily’s controlling shares in Carter Vale Development.
The third removed Emily as trustee of the Carter Family Legacy Fund on the grounds of mental incapacity.
Each form contained her signature.
Each signature was almost perfect.
Emily zoomed in.
The curve of the E was slightly wrong.
Peter had practiced.
A car engine sounded outside.
Emily photographed every page she could.
Then a hidden folder opened when her sleeve brushed the trackpad.
Property Transfer - Monday, 9:00 A.M.
A second file appeared beneath it.
Medical Certification - E. Carter.
Emily opened it.
The document stated that Emily suffered from severe combat-related psychological instability, delusional behavior and impaired judgment.
It was signed by Dr. Samuel Kline.
Emily knew that name.
Dr. Kline was Helen’s brother.
He had never examined Emily.
Footsteps sounded in the hallway.
Emily closed the files but did not have time to shut down the computer.
Peter entered the office.
He stopped in the doorway.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Peter slowly closed the door behind him.
“You shouldn’t be here.”
Emily raised her phone.
“You forged my signature.”
Peter’s eyes moved toward the laptop.
“What did you see?”
“Enough.”
“No, you didn’t.”
“You fabricated a psychiatric evaluation.”
Peter took one step closer.
“Give me the phone.”
“Why are you transferring my father’s company?”
“It isn’t your father’s company anymore.”
“My name controls fifty-one percent.”
“For now.”
Emily held the phone behind her.
“Was Maisie part of the plan from the beginning?”
Peter’s face tightened.
“The test was supposed to make you leave quietly.”
“You threw your own daughter out.”
“I needed you out of the house.”
“For Helen?”
Peter’s eyes flickered.
That was enough.
Emily continued.
“Your mother planned this.”
“You don’t understand what she’s protecting.”
“Then tell me.”
“I can’t.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because the truth would destroy more than our marriage.”
Emily laughed bitterly.
“You already destroyed our marriage.”
Peter moved toward her again.
Emily reached for the heavy letter opener on the desk.
He stopped.
“I’m not going to hurt you.”
“You already did.”
A vehicle pulled into the driveway.
Peter looked through the window.
His face changed.
Emily followed his gaze.
A black town car had arrived.
Calvin Shaw stepped out with two men carrying document cases.
“They’re early,” Peter whispered.
“Who?”
Peter grabbed Emily’s wrist.
His grip was desperate rather than violent.
“You need to leave now.”
“Let go of me.”
“If my mother finds you here…”
“What will she do?”
Peter looked genuinely terrified.
The office door handle began to turn.
Peter released Emily and pointed toward the narrow door leading to the old library passage.
“Go.”
Emily hesitated.
“Why are you helping me?”
“I’m not helping you. I’m trying to keep Maisie alive.”
The office door opened.
Helen entered.
Emily slipped through the passage a second before Helen looked toward the desk.
From behind the concealed panel, Emily heard Helen speak.
“Why is the laptop open?”
Peter answered too quickly.
“I was reviewing the files.”
May you like
Helen was silent.
Then she said, “Find Emily before tonight. If she photographed anything, take the child.”
