Chapter 3 - The House Was Watching Me
“How does he know?” I whispered.
Daniel held out his hand. “Give me the phone.”
Ryan sent another text.
BRING SOPHIE. THIS DOESN’T NEED TO GET UGLY.
Daniel photographed the messages. “Do not respond.”
The next morning I returned to the house with a police officer to collect Sophie’s medicine, clothes, and my documents. Ryan was supposed to be at work.
He wasn’t.
He stood in the living room wearing the navy sweater I had bought him for Christmas.
“Can we not do this?” he asked.
“You emptied the checking account.”
“I moved money because you were acting irrational.”
“You took money from an account Grandma created for me.”
His eyes flickered.
“You have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Your mother handled that account,” he added.
“So you admit you knew about it.”
He realized the mistake.
“Emily, listen—”
“No.”
Upstairs, I opened the drawer where we kept passports and insurance papers.
Empty.
The fireproof box in the closet was empty too.
“Where are my documents?” I demanded.
“I put important things somewhere safe.”
“They are mine.”
“We are married.”
“That does not make my passport yours.”
He smiled without warmth. “You always get dramatic when your grandmother gets in your head.”
Then I saw a tiny green light beneath the bookshelf.
“What is that?”
Ryan’s face changed.
I crouched and pulled out a black device smaller than my palm.
A camera.
Pointed at the bed.
The officer stepped closer. “Sir, is that yours?”
Ryan said nothing.
I searched behind a framed photo near the desk.
Another camera.
Suddenly every argument, private phone call, and secret Ryan somehow knew about made sense.
Then my phone rang.
Daniel.
“Emily, get out of that house now.”
“What happened?”
“We traced the forty-two thousand.”
“It didn’t pay your mortgage.”
“Where did it go?”
May you like
Daniel paused.
“To a family-law firm.”
