Chapter 2: What My Wife Was Hiding
Vanessa recovered quickly.
She always did.
Within seconds, her pale expression disappeared beneath an irritated smile.
"Marcus, this is ridiculous.""
I folded the letter carefully.
"What's ridiculous?""
"Your dead wife's little games. Emily always had a flair for drama.""
Maya stepped forward.
"Don't talk about Mommy like that.""
Vanessa turned toward her.
"Go upstairs, Maya.""
"No.""
The word was barely audible, but it stopped everyone.
Vanessa narrowed her eyes.
"What did you say?""
Maya gripped the stuffed rabbit.
"I want my music box.""
"Look what you made happen by being difficult.""
I stepped between them.
"That's enough. Maya, come stand beside me.""
Vanessa threw her hands up.
"Wonderful. Now you're teaching her to disrespect me.""
"I'm teaching her that she doesn't have to stand there while an adult insults her.""
Brielle walked into the kitchen holding Maya's tablet.
"Mom, can we order pizza?""
Vanessa glanced at her.
"Not now, sweetheart.""
"But you promised we'd celebrate my new room.""
The words hung in the air.
Celebrate.
I looked at Brielle.
"Your new room?""
She shrugged.
"Mom said I could have the bigger bedroom because I'm older. She said Maya would eventually get used to sleeping somewhere else.""
Maya stared at her.
"You said it was temporary.""
Brielle laughed.
"Mom said you believe whatever makes you happy.""
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
"Brielle, go upstairs.""
"But—"
"NOW.""
Brielle stomped away.
I waited until her footsteps disappeared.
Then I held up Emily's letter.
"Tell me what she meant.""
Vanessa folded her arms.
"Your first wife was sick for a long time. She wasn't thinking clearly near the end.""
"She wrote this before she died?""
"How would I know?""
"Because you recognized it.""
"I recognized the handwriting, Marcus. We were all at the same funeral.""
I studied her face.
Emily had been gone for four years.
I had met Vanessa about eighteen months after her death. She had seemed patient with Maya, gentle with me, and understanding about the complicated grief that still filled our house.
At least, that was what I had believed.
"Did Emily ever tell you anything about the house?"" I asked.
Vanessa laughed nervously.
"What kind of question is that?""
"Anything about the floorboards?""
"No.""
"Anything about a hidden compartment?""
"Marcus, this is absurd.""
I put the letter in my pocket.
"I'm going to look.""
Her expression hardened.
"You are not tearing up this house because of a stupid note.""
"It's my house.""
"Your house?"" She stepped closer.
"We've been married for two years. Everything here belongs to both of us.""
"Not Maya's belongings. Not her mother's things.""
Vanessa's voice dropped.
"You need to understand something. Brielle and I deserve to feel comfortable here, too.""
I stared at her.
"By throwing an eleven-year-old out of her bedroom?""
"By creating a fair arrangement.""
"Fair?""
"Yes. Brielle is older. She needs more space. Maya can use the guest room until we decide what to do.""
"Who decided that?""
"I did.""
"Without discussing it with me?""
"Because every conversation about Maya becomes a battle!""
Her voice cracked on the last word.
For a moment, I thought she might cry.
Then she pointed toward the stairs.
"Take your daughter upstairs and calm her down. I need to speak to Brielle.""
I didn't move.
"You're going to put Maya's room back.""
Vanessa shook her head.
"Not tonight.""
"Tomorrow, then.""
"I'll think about it.""
"That's not an answer.""
She turned away.
And that was when I saw something I hadn't noticed before.
Her right hand was shaking.
Not with anger.
With fear.
I took Maya into the living room and sat beside her on the couch.
She kept looking toward the kitchen.
"Is Mommy's music box going to be okay?""
I placed the broken pieces on the coffee table.
"I'll see what I can do.""
"Can you fix it?""
"I'll try.""
She rubbed the rabbit's damaged ear between her fingers.
"Mommy used to wind it when I had nightmares.""
"I remember.""
"Do you think she knew Vanessa would do this?""
The question hurt more than anything Vanessa had said.
I brushed a strand of hair away from Maya's face.
"I don't know, sweetheart.""
"She said Mommy left it because she didn't want me to forget her.""
I swallowed.
"Your mother could never be forgotten.""
Maya leaned against me.
After a moment, she whispered, "I heard Vanessa talking on the phone yesterday.""
I turned toward her.
"What did she say?""
"She was in your office. I went downstairs because I wanted water.""
"What did you hear?""
Maya hesitated.
"She said the room had to be empty before the inspection.""
My stomach tightened.
"What inspection?""
"I don't know. Then she said something about a man named Richard.""
I sat up.
"Did she say anything else?""
Maya nodded.
"She said, 'Once the room is cleared, nobody will find what Emily left behind.''"
The house suddenly felt colder.
"Did Vanessa see you?""
"I don't think so.""
I looked toward the staircase.
"What time was this?""
"Yesterday. Around eight.""
I took out my phone and wrote down the words exactly as Maya had repeated them.
Then I noticed her staring at the tablet in Brielle's hands.
"Did Brielle take that from your room?""
Maya nodded.
"Mommy gave it to me for my birthday.""
"I'll get it back.""
"It's okay, Dad.""
"No, it isn't.""
She looked at me.
"Can I sleep in your room tonight?""
"Of course.""
For the first time that evening, her shoulders relaxed.
At ten thirty, after Maya had fallen asleep in my bedroom, I went downstairs.
Vanessa was sitting at the kitchen island with a glass of wine and her laptop open.
She closed the screen when she saw me.
"Can't sleep?""
"I need to ask you something.""
She sighed.
"Marcus, I'm exhausted.""
"Who's Richard?""
The wineglass stopped halfway to her mouth.
"What?""
"Richard. The man you spoke to about the inspection.""
She set the glass down.
"Why are you asking?""
"Maya heard you talking.""
Vanessa stared at me.
Then she gave a small, humorless laugh.
"You interrogated your own daughter?""
"She told me what she heard.""
"Children misunderstand things.""
"Then explain them.""
Vanessa stood and carried her glass to the sink.
"Richard is a contractor. I asked him about renovating the upstairs.""
"Why?""
"Because the house needs work.""
"What inspection?""
"An appraisal.""
"Why would you need an appraisal?""
She turned the faucet on.
"Because I'm considering refinancing.""
I stared at her.
"Without telling me?""
"It's a marital decision.""
"Then why did you say nobody would find what Emily left behind?""
The water stopped.
Vanessa slowly turned around.
Her expression was no longer irritated.
It was calculating.
"Did Maya really say that?""
"Yes.""
"She must have misunderstood.""
"Maybe. But I'm going to find out.""
Vanessa stepped closer.
"Marcus, listen to me. Your grief is making you paranoid. You keep looking for signs that Emily is still somehow directing this family.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Don't use my grief to explain your behavior.""
She looked toward the ceiling.
"Fine. Do whatever you want.""
Then she picked up her wineglass and walked away.
But she left her laptop open.
I wasn't planning to look at it.
Until a notification appeared on the screen.
An email.
The sender's name was Richard Cole.
The subject line read:
*UPSTAIRS FLOOR ACCESS — FINAL CONFIRMATION*
My heart began pounding.
I moved closer.
The email preview contained one sentence.
The compartment must be opened before the buyer's surveyor arrives on Monday.
And beneath it was an attachment.
May you like
A photograph of Maya's bedroom.
With a red circle drawn around the floorboards beneath her bed.
