Chapter 9 - Eric’s Final GiftNaomi’s mother insisted Graham had never been alone in her house.
Then she remembered something.
Six months earlier, a pipe had burst beneath her kitchen sink.
Graham offered to meet the plumber while she attended a dentist appointment.
He had been alone inside for almost two hours.
Naomi felt sick.
“He was searching.”
Rachel nodded.
“For whatever Eric hid.”
They searched the closet Maisie described.
Old coats.
Christmas decorations.
Boxes of photographs.
Then Naomi found a wooden music box pushed behind a suitcase.
Her mother stared.
“I’ve never seen that.”
Naomi recognized it.
Eric had given it to her when Maisie was born.
It played “You Are My Sunshine.”
After Eric died, Naomi packed away almost everything connected to the hospital years and early marriage.
She had forgotten the box existed.
Her hands shook as she opened it.
Music filled the room.
Soft.
Tinny.
Painfully familiar.
Nothing appeared unusual.
Then Rachel turned it upside down.
“There’s something under the lining.”
Detective Torres arrived before they touched anything else.
A technician removed the felt bottom.
Inside was a tiny memory card wrapped in plastic.
Naomi stared at it.
“Eric.”
The card contained one video.
Forty-one minutes long.
Recorded inside a conference room.
The date was three days before Eric died.
Charles Larkin sat at the head of the table.
Cynthia sat beside him.
Graham sat across from her.
Marcus stood near the door.
Eric’s camera must have been hidden inside a bag.
The audio was clear.
Charles spoke first.
“You’re overreacting.”
Eric answered.
“One-point-four million dollars isn’t an accounting mistake.”
Cynthia laughed.
“You have no idea how executive finance works.”
“I know fake invoices when I see them.”
Then Graham:
“Eric, stop.”
“You knew.”
“I knew some things.”
“You signed them.”
Graham looked away.
Naomi watched every second.
The argument escalated.
Eric threatened to contact federal investigators.
Charles threatened his career.
Cynthia threatened lawsuits.
Marcus said almost nothing.
Then Eric stood.
“I’m done.”
Cynthia’s voice stopped him.
“What does your wife know?”
Naomi felt cold.
Eric answered:
“Nothing.”
“Keep it that way.”
“You stay away from Naomi.”
Cynthia smiled.
“What about your little girl?”
Naomi paused the video.
Her hands shook violently.
Torres touched the keyboard.
“Do you want me to continue?”
“Yes.”
The video resumed.
Eric’s voice changed.
“If you ever mention my daughter again—”
Graham interrupted.
“Mom, enough.”
It was the first moment Naomi saw anything resembling decency from him.
Cynthia shrugged.
“I’m simply reminding Eric that everyone has something to lose.”
Eric leaned toward the table.
“You threaten my family again and this goes to police tonight.”
He walked out.
The video continued for several minutes after Eric left because the hidden camera remained.
And that was where the true story emerged.
Charles looked at Graham.
“Fix this.”
Graham shook his head.
“I’ll talk to him.”
Cynthia said, “Talking isn’t working.”
Marcus asked, “What are you suggesting?”
Cynthia leaned back.
“Scare him.”
Graham immediately replied, “No.”
Naomi leaned closer.
Cynthia ignored him.
“Get the files. Make him understand.”
Charles said quietly, “I don’t want details.”
Then he stood and left.
Marcus looked at Cynthia.
“How far?”
“Far enough that he stops.”
Graham said, “Nobody touches him.”
Cynthia turned toward her son.
“You’re soft.”
“I said nobody touches him.”
“Then get the drive yourself.”
The video ended.
Naomi sat in silence.
Graham had participated in the fraud.
He had hidden evidence.
He had lied to her for years.
He had mistreated her daughter.
But the recording suggested he had not ordered Eric’s death.
The distinction mattered legally.
Emotionally, it changed nothing.
He had known afterward.
And he had chosen silence.
Torres sent the recording to prosecutors immediately.
By evening, Charles Larkin was arrested.
News stations swarmed the company headquarters.
The scandal exploded.
Financial fraud.
Obstruction.
Conspiracy.
A reopened death investigation.
The canceled wedding became national gossip within hours.
Naomi hated seeing her own photograph on television.
But one headline made her stop.
BRIDE CANCELS WEDDING HOURS BEFORE CEREMONY, UNCOVERING THREE-YEAR CORPORATE COVER-UP
Rachel read it aloud.
“Sounds like a movie.”
Naomi turned off the television.
“It was my husband.”
“I know.”
“It was Maisie.”
Rachel sat beside her.
“I know.”
Naomi looked toward the bedroom where Maisie slept.
“If she hadn’t screamed in that hallway…”
“You would have married him.”
Naomi nodded.
“And maybe Eric’s death would still be called an accident.”
Rachel squeezed her hand.
“Maisie saved you.”
Naomi shook her head.
“No.”
She thought about all those nights Maisie had tried to communicate without having the words.
“She tried to save us for weeks. I just finally listened.”
Three days later, Graham requested to speak with Naomi again.
This time she agreed.
Not because she wanted answers.
Because she wanted him to hear one thing.
They met through reinforced glass.
Graham wore county-issued clothing instead of the tuxedo she had chosen for him.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then he lifted the phone.
Naomi did too.
“You look tired,” he said.
Naomi almost laughed.
“You knew.”
His eyes changed.
“About what happened to Eric?”
“You knew your mother followed him.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she hit his car.”
“Afterward.”
“You knew she left him there.”
Graham looked down.
“Yes.”
Naomi swallowed.
“And then you found me.”
“It wasn’t supposed to happen like that.”
“What was supposed to happen?”
“I wanted to find the recording.”
“So you dated me.”
“At first.”
The words should have hurt.
They didn’t.
Not anymore.
“At first?”
“I fell in love with you.”
“No.”
“I did.”
“You loved controlling what I knew.”
“That isn’t fair.”
Naomi laughed softly.
“Fair?”
She leaned toward the glass.
“My husband died on a roadside while your mother drove away. You knew. Then you sat at my table and let my daughter call you Graham, let her trust you, and punished her because she loved me too much.”
His face tightened.
“I never hurt her intentionally.”
“She’s afraid of you.”
“She needed structure.”
“She needed kindness.”
Naomi’s voice remained calm.
“You were never competing with Maisie.”
Graham stared at her.
“You were competing with a four-year-old and losing.”
His jaw clenched.
“Naomi.”
“I came here for one reason.”
“What?”
“To tell you I know everything.”
He looked uneasy.
“The recording was inside Eric’s music box.”
Graham’s face drained of color.
Naomi saw immediately that he had searched for it for years.
“You found it?”
“Yes.”
“What was on it?”
“You know exactly what was on it.”
“Naomi, listen—”
“No.”
She placed her free hand against the glass.
“You spent years trying to erase Eric.”
She paused.
“But my daughter found what you couldn’t.”
Graham stared at her.
Then something ugly appeared again.
That same hallway expression.
“You think this is over?”
Naomi smiled.
“For you?”
She placed the phone back into its cradle.
“It’s just beginning.”
As she walked away, an officer stopped her near the exit.
“Ms. Carter?”
“Yes?”
“There’s someone here asking for you.”
Naomi frowned.
“Who?”
The officer handed her an envelope.
No name.
Inside was a photograph of Eric.
Taken two days before his death.
He was sitting at a café table with a woman Naomi had never seen before.
May you like
On the back were six words:
Eric was keeping one secret too.
