I played the recorder first.
Taped under the old toolbox, exactly where he said, were a flash drive, another envelope, and a voice recorder.
I played the recorder first.
Liam’s voice came through calm and tired. “You have one week to tell Emily yourself.”
Grace was crying. “I said I’m going to fix it.”
“With what money?” Liam asked.
Then Ryan spoke, flat and ugly. “Stay out of it.”
Liam answered, “Emily and those kids are my family. You do not get to touch what belongs to them.”
That night I set a trap.
Grace’s voice came back, panicked now. “Ryan, stop.”
The recording cut off.
I sat there on the concrete floor with my hand over my mouth.
For weeks, part of me had wondered whether Liam had hidden something from me.
He hadn’t.
He had been protecting us.
That night I set a trap.
Grace opened the folder.
