Chapter 6: His Brother Knew Everything
“Marcus?””
I said the name slowly, as if pronouncing it carefully might make it belong to someone else.
Ethan's older brother had been part of nearly every major moment in our marriage. He had stood beside Ethan at our wedding, helped us carry boxes into our first apartment, and spent Thanksgiving at our house so often that I had stopped asking whether he was coming.
He called me his sister.
He had once driven two hours to bring me soup when I was sick and Ethan was away on business.
And now his message was telling my husband to retrieve evidence before I saw the rest.
I held out my hand.
“Give me your phone.””
Ethan slipped it into his pocket.
“No.””
The answer was immediate.
I nodded slowly.
“Okay.””
He looked surprised.
I pulled out my own phone and photographed the notification from memory in a note, recording the exact wording and the time. Then I sent the screenshot I had managed to capture to my personal email.
Ethan watched me.
“What are you doing?””
“Making sure this doesn't disappear.””
“You're acting like I'm a criminal.””
“I haven't called you one.””
“But you're treating me like one.””
I looked at him.
“You're hiding evidence, lying about where you were, and receiving messages from your brother telling you to retrieve recordings before I see them. What would you call it?””
He had no answer.
Daniel walked to the garage door and stood beside it, his arms folded.
“Call Marcus.””
Ethan shook his head.
“No.””
“Why not?””
“Because this has nothing to do with him.””
Daniel let out a sharp breath.
“His name is on the message.””
“You don't know what it means.””
“Then let's ask him.””
Ethan looked at me.
“Nia, please. I need you to trust me for five minutes.””
I felt a strange calm settle over me.
“I trusted you for eight years.””
He looked away.
“I can't keep doing this,” I continued.
“You don't get to demand five more minutes when you haven't given me one honest explanation.””
Brooke stood near the workbench, twisting the edge of her towel.
“Marcus wasn't supposed to contact you,” she whispered.
Every head turned toward her.
Daniel stared at his wife.
“What did you just say?””
She swallowed.
“He told Ethan not to involve Nia.””
I stepped closer.
“When?””
Brooke's eyes moved to the laptop.
“Before March 14.””
The garage seemed to shrink around us.
“Before the night Ethan claimed he was in Chicago?””
She nodded.
“Why?””
“I don't know everything.””
“Then tell me what you do know.””
Brooke looked at Daniel, but he didn't offer her any comfort. He simply waited.
Finally, she took a shaky breath.
“Marcus came to see me about two weeks before that night. He said Ethan was in trouble and needed help. He told me it was a family matter and that you weren't supposed to know.””
I stared at her.
“What kind of trouble?””
“He wouldn't say at first. He said there was something Ethan had done, something that could damage his career and your marriage.””
Ethan stepped forward.
“Brooke, stop.””
She flinched but continued.
“Marcus said if the wrong person found out, everything would fall apart. He told me Ethan was trying to fix it.””
“Fix what?”” I demanded.
Brooke shook her head.
“I didn't know.””
“You agreed to help a man hide something from me without knowing what it was?””
“He said it was temporary.””
Daniel's face tightened.
“And what did he ask you to do?””
Brooke looked down.
“Drive Nia's car.””
I felt the room tilt.
“Why?””
“He said he needed someone to move it. He told me Ethan would explain the rest.””
I stared at her.
“Did you take my car on March 14?””
“No.””
The answer came quickly.
“Then why were you in it on March 15?””
“Because Ethan called me that morning.””
She glanced at him.
“He said he needed me to come over. When I arrived, he was already inside the car. He had the envelope and the memory card.””
I gripped the edge of the workbench.
“What was in the envelope?””
“I never opened it.””
“You took it.””
“Yes.””
“And you never looked inside?””
Brooke shook her head.
“I was scared.””
I laughed once, without humor.
“You were scared, so you helped them keep me in the dark.””
She lowered her head.
“I know.””
For once, she didn't ask me to understand.
I could almost respect that.
Almost.
Daniel moved toward the garage entrance, then stopped and turned back.
“Brooke, why were you in the pool with Ethan today?””
Her face crumpled.
“Marcus told us to meet.””
The words landed with a terrible finality.
I stared at her.
“Marcus arranged this afternoon?””
She nodded.
“He said we needed to discuss what happened before anyone else found out. Ethan said it would be easier to talk here.””
“Together? In the pool?””
“No. We were supposed to talk before you got home. I swear, Nia, I didn't know you'd come back early.””
Ethan rubbed his face.
“That's not how it happened.””
Brooke turned on him.
“Then tell her how it happened!””
He glared at her.
“You were the one who said we should meet outside.””
“Because you told me the house was empty!””
“It was supposed to be empty!””
I stood between them, listening to their argument unravel.
They weren't defending their marriage.
They weren't even arguing about whether they had betrayed us.
They were arguing about the logistics of hiding it.
That realization hurt in a way the pool scene hadn't.
The pool scene had been a humiliation.
This was a dismantling.
Every memory of Brooke laughing at my kitchen island, every reassuring conversation with Ethan, every casual mention of Marcus visiting for dinner seemed to split into two versions: the one I had lived, and the one they had been managing behind my back.
I sat on the stool beside the workbench.
“What happened on March 14?””
Ethan stared at the floor.
“Marcus called me.””
“From where?””
“Chicago.””
I looked up.
“You were in Chicago?””
He hesitated.
“Part of the time.””
I almost smiled at the absurdity.
“Part of the time.””
He nodded.
“Marcus said someone had discovered a problem with the company's records. He told me to come back early.””
“What problem?””
“I can't explain it.””
“You can. You just don't want to.””
He gripped the back of a chair.
“Marcus said there was a document with your name on it. He said it had to be retrieved before morning.””
My heart began pounding.
“My name?””
“Yes.””
“What document?””
“I never saw the whole thing.””
“Then how do you know it had my name on it?””
He looked at me.
“Because Marcus showed me a photograph.””
Daniel stepped closer.
“What kind of document?””
Ethan's eyes moved toward the laptop.
“A transfer authorization.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“Transfer of what?””
He didn't answer.
I stood abruptly.
“Transfer of what, Ethan?””
He looked at me with a mixture of shame and fear.
“Money.””
The word seemed to echo.
I stared at him.
“What money?””
He swallowed.
“Money that wasn't supposed to be moved.””
For a long moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I remembered the envelope.
The date.
The car.
The message warning me not to let Ethan delete anything.
“Was the money mine?””
Ethan closed his eyes.
“I didn't know at first.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
He opened them again.
“Yes.””
Daniel swore under his breath.
Brooke began crying harder.
I gripped the workbench until my knuckles hurt.
“How much?””
Ethan looked away.
“How much, Ethan?””
“Two hundred and forty thousand dollars.””
The garage went silent.
I heard the number, but my mind refused to accept it.
Two hundred and forty thousand dollars.
The inheritance my mother had left me after she died.
The money I had placed in a separate account because she had spent her life teaching me to protect my independence. The money I had planned to use as a down payment on a small property, something that would belong to me regardless of what happened to my marriage.
I had told Ethan about that account.
I had trusted him enough to tell him everything.
My knees weakened.
“You transferred my inheritance?””
“I didn't initiate the transfer,” he said quickly.
“Marcus handled the paperwork.””
“But you knew.””
“I found out afterward.””
“When?””
He hesitated.
“March 14.””
I stared at him.
“So you knew the night you called me from Chicago.””
“Yes.””
“And the next morning, when you came home and kissed me?””
He said nothing.
“When you gave me those chocolates?””
His face crumpled.
“Yes.””
I stepped back.
“You stood in my kitchen and watched me smile at you while you knew my mother's money was gone.””
“I was trying to get it back.””
“How?””
“Marcus said he could reverse it.””
“Did he?””
Ethan's silence answered me.
I pressed a hand to my mouth.
The betrayal was no longer an affair. It wasn't merely a lie about a business trip or a secret relationship with my neighbor.
Someone had taken the one thing my mother had left me, and the people I trusted most had built a wall of lies around it.
I looked at Brooke.
“Did you know about the money?””
She shook her head.
“Not until after March 14.””
“Did Marcus tell you what was in the envelope?””
“No.””
“Did Ethan?””
“No.””
I turned toward my husband.
“Where did the money go?””
He stared at me.
“I don't know.””
I felt something inside me harden.
“Then we're going to find out.””
My phone vibrated.
Another message from the unknown number.
*THE TRANSFER WAS ONLY THE BEGINNING.*
I opened it.
A second line appeared beneath it.
*ASK ETHAN WHY YOUR MOTHER'S SIGNATURE WAS ON THE AUTHORIZATION.*
I lifted my eyes.
Ethan was staring at my phone.
And when he saw the words, he whispered, “Oh, God.””
I looked at him.
“My mother has been dead for three years.””
He backed away from me.
“Nia, I can explain.””
I held up the phone.
“Then explain why a dead woman's signature was used to authorize the transfer of my inheritance.””
He looked toward the garage entrance.
Daniel moved to block it.
Brooke stopped crying.
And for the first time that afternoon, Ethan appeared to understand that the truth was no longer something he could control.
Because if my mother's signature had been forged, the money had not simply disappeared.
Someone had planned the theft.
Someone had prepared the paperwork.
And someone had known exactly how to make it look as though my mother had approved it.
I stared at my husband.
“Who signed her name?””
Ethan's lips trembled.
Then he said the one thing I hadn't expected.
“Marcus didn't forge it.””
May you like
He looked directly at me.
“I did.””
