Chapter 2: The Man Behind the Camera
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Daniel was still on the phone, breathing into the receiver.
“Marcus? Are you there?””
I stared at my wife.
Vanessa had backed away from the table. One hand gripped the edge of a chair so tightly that her knuckles had turned white.
“I'm here,” I finally said.
“Good. Listen to me. Nia has been acting strangely.
She's been going through things that don't belong to her. Vanessa called me because she was worried.””
I glanced at the cracked phone in my hand.
“You called her?””
“Of course I did.””
“To discuss what to do with my daughter?””
A pause.
Daniel cleared his throat.
“You're making this sound sinister. I meant we should discuss her behavior. That's all.””
“Then why did you tell Vanessa you were waiting for Nia to be gone?””
Silence.
I could hear traffic in the background, followed by the muffled slam of a car door.
Finally, Daniel said, “You watched the recording.””
It wasn't a question.
I tightened my grip on the phone.
“You knew she was recording?””
“No. I mean—Marcus, you have to understand the circumstances.””
“What circumstances?””
“Not over the phone.””
I almost laughed.
My brother had spent his entire life making every ugly truth sound like a complicated misunderstanding. When we were boys, he broke my father's watch and convinced everyone I'd done it. When we were adults, he borrowed money from our mother and blamed the bank when he couldn't repay it.
I'd spent years cleaning up after him.
But he'd never involved my daughter.
“Come to the house,” I said.
“Marcus, that's not a good idea.””
“Then tell me why you were holding my dead wife's necklace.””
Another silence.
When Daniel spoke again, his voice was colder.
“Ask Vanessa what Elena knew about you.””
The call ended.
I lowered the phone slowly.
Vanessa immediately approached me.
“Marcus, please. You need to calm down.””
“Tell me the truth.””
“I can explain.””
“Then explain.””
She glanced at Nia.
“Not in front of her.””
I felt my jaw tighten.
“You had no problem punishing her in front of everyone. You had no problem leaving her in a corner with cold food. You had no problem screaming at her for asking about her mother's necklace.””
“That is not what happened.””
“Then tell me what happened.””
Vanessa pressed her fingertips against her forehead.
“Your daughter has been making accusations for weeks. She's been looking for ways to turn you against me.””
Nia shook her head.
“I haven't.””
Vanessa rounded on her.
“Don't interrupt!””
“Vanessa,” I warned.
She stopped, but the fury in her eyes remained.
I turned to Nia.
“Sweetheart, I want you to tell me everything. You won't be punished for telling the truth.””
She looked at me as though she desperately wanted to believe that.
Then she sat in the empty chair and placed both hands on her knees.
“Three weeks ago, I heard Mom's music box playing in your bedroom,” she began.
“I thought you were looking through her things, so I went to see.””
Elena's music box had been missing from our bedroom for months. Vanessa had told me she'd packed it away because it reminded her of how much I still missed my first wife.
“What did you see?”” I asked.
“Vanessa was opening Mom's jewelry box. Daniel was standing beside her.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“She misunderstood.””
Nia kept her eyes on me.
“Daniel asked whether the papers were still inside. Vanessa said they were. Then he asked about the necklace.””
“What papers?””
“I don't know. Vanessa saw me at the door, and she told me to leave.””
I turned toward my wife.
“What papers?””
She crossed her arms.
“She was snooping through private belongings. I told Daniel we should secure the items so she wouldn't damage anything.””
“Then why was my brother asking about papers?””
“I don't know what he meant.””
Nia reached into her pocket again and pulled out a folded piece of paper.
“I found this in the trash in your office,” she said.
I unfolded it.
It was a printed bank transfer confirmation.
A payment of $85,000 had been sent from an account belonging to Elena's family trust to a company called Northbridge Holdings.
The transaction was dated eleven days earlier.
My first reaction was confusion. I knew the trust existed because Elena's father had established it for Nia when she was born. The money was supposed to remain untouched until she turned eighteen, except for approved expenses related to her education and welfare.
I had never authorized an $85,000 withdrawal.
At the bottom of the page was an authorization signature.
Marcus Reed.
My signature.
Except it wasn't quite right.
The shape of the M was wrong, and the final stroke of my surname curved in the opposite direction.
“Where did you find this?”” I asked.
“Under the paper towels,” Nia said.
“I saw Vanessa throw it away. I thought you should know.””
Vanessa snatched at the paper.
I pulled it back.
“Don't.””
Her face hardened.
“You're letting a child manipulate you with a piece of garbage.””
“Then you won't mind if I ask the bank about it.””
For the first time, Vanessa looked genuinely frightened.
She recovered quickly.
“Fine. Ask them. But don't drag my children through an investigation because your daughter has decided she doesn't like me.””
Mason pushed his chair back.
“Mom, what does Northbridge Holdings do?””
Vanessa looked at him sharply.
“Go upstairs.””
“But—”
“Now!””
Mason stood, knocking his water glass over. Water spread across the tablecloth and dripped onto the floor.
Chloe hurried to help him, but Vanessa pointed toward the staircase.
“Both of you. Upstairs.””
They left without another word.
I watched them disappear, then turned back to my wife.
“Who owns Northbridge Holdings?””
“I don't know.””
“Who signed my name?””
“I don't know!””
Her voice cracked.
For one second, she looked less like an angry spouse and more like someone cornered by a truth she hadn't prepared to explain.
I stepped closer.
“Did you take Elena's necklace?””
Vanessa stared at me.
Then, incredibly, she began to cry.
“I was trying to protect this family.””
“From what?””
“You don't understand what Elena left behind.””
“Then help me understand.””
She wiped her face with the back of her hand.
“Elena wasn't the woman you think she was.””
I felt the familiar pull of grief. Vanessa knew exactly which words could hurt me because I'd spent years telling her stories about the woman I had loved.
“Don't use my wife's memory to avoid answering a question.””
Vanessa looked toward the staircase.
Then she leaned close enough that I could smell the wine on her breath.
“Your brother told me Elena was planning to leave you.””
I stared at her.
“That doesn't explain the money.””
“She discovered something about the trust. She was going to change the beneficiary arrangements before she died.””
“Nia is the beneficiary.””
“Not anymore, if Daniel's documents are real.””
I felt as though the floor had tilted beneath me.
“What documents?””
Vanessa swallowed.
“He said Elena signed a new agreement six weeks before the accident. He said the money was supposed to go to a different account.””
“Who showed you this agreement?””
“Daniel.””
“Where is it?””
She looked at the kitchen counter.
At the cracked phone.
At the folded transfer receipt still in my hand.
Then she whispered, “I burned it.””
I stood perfectly still.
“You burned a legal document concerning my daughter's inheritance?””
“I thought it was fake!””
“Then why burn it?””
“Because Daniel said if anyone discovered it, we'd all lose everything!””
The room fell silent.
I heard a floorboard creak upstairs.
Nia was standing on the staircase, her face pale.
“Dad,” she said, “that's not the only thing I found.””
She descended slowly, clutching something against her chest.
A small silver music box.
Elena's music box.
Nia placed it on the table and opened the lid. The familiar melody filled the kitchen, delicate and slightly out of tune.
Then she lifted the velvet lining inside the lid.
Beneath it was a tiny envelope.
My name was written across the front in Elena's handwriting.
My hands began to shake.
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a note dated six weeks before Elena died.
Marcus, if anything happens to me, do not let Daniel near Nia's trust. He has already taken the first step.
At the bottom, beneath Elena's signature, was another sentence.
And if Vanessa is in the house when you read this, ask her what happened the night of my accident.
I looked up.
Vanessa had stopped crying.
She was staring at the note with the expression of someone watching a locked door swing open.
“Marcus,” she whispered, “you have to understand. I didn't know she was going to die.””
The music box continued playing.
I read Elena's last sentence again.
May you like
Then I asked the question that made Vanessa sink into the nearest chair.
“What happened the night my wife died?””
