I looked at Michael.
“What was David investigating?”
Michael hesitated.
“I don’t know.”
“You knew about this letter.”
“Yes.”
“You knew he was worried.”
“Yes.”
“Then you must know something.”
Michael shook his head.
“I only know what David told me.”
“What did he tell you?”
He stared toward Tyler’s grave.
“He said if anything happened to him, you would probably blame yourself.”
My throat tightened.
“He said you’d be vulnerable.”
I whispered:
“I am.”
Michael shook his head.
“No. You were.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a key.
“A key to David’s office.”
I stared at it.
“I thought his office was cleaned out.”
“It was.”
“Then what’s this?”
Michael’s expression changed.
“This isn’t the key to his work office.”
I felt something shift inside me.
“Then what is it?”
Michael looked directly into my eyes.
“It’s the key to the storage unit David rented six months ago.”
Six months.
That was right after his father’s funeral.
Right before David died.
I remembered that time.
He had started acting differently.
He had become quieter.
He’d occasionally disappear for an hour or two.
Whenever I asked where he’d been, he’d say:
“Just taking care of something.”
I had assumed it was work.
I had never questioned him.
Because I trusted him.
Michael placed the key in my palm.
“There is one more thing.”
“What?”
“David told me that if you ever opened that storage unit, you should bring someone you trust.”
I gave him a bitter smile.
“I don’t have anyone.”
Michael looked at me.
“You do now.”
The next morning, I drove to the storage facility.
I didn’t tell my parents.
I didn’t tell Haley.
I didn’t tell anyone.
Michael followed me in his truck.
The facility was on the outskirts of Bellevue, behind an old industrial park.
Unit 317.
The lock opened easily.
The metal door rolled upward.
Inside was almost nothing.
One desk.
Three cardboard boxes.
A filing cabinet.
And a black suitcase.
I stood there staring.
Michael moved beside me.
“David wasn’t a hoarder.”
“I know.”
“So why rent a unit?”
“I don’t know.”
I walked toward the desk.
There was a laptop sitting on it.
My husband’s old laptop.
I touched the lid.
Dust covered everything except the keyboard.
It looked as if someone had used it recently.
My stomach tightened.
“Michael.”
He came closer.
“Look.”
There was a small green light blinking on the laptop.
It was connected to power.
I opened it.
The screen turned on immediately.
No password.
There was one folder on the desktop.
FOR ALLISON.
My heart hammered.
I clicked it.
Inside were dozens of files.
Bank statements.
Property records.
Emails.
Screenshots.
Audio recordings.
Photographs.
And one document titled:
HALEY SANDERS — IMPORTANT
I stared at it.
“What the hell?”
Michael leaned over.
“Open it.”
I clicked.
The first page was a bank statement.
My name was nowhere on it.
Haley’s name was.
Then I saw the amount.
My eyes widened.
$184,000.
I scrolled.
Another account.
$96,500.
Another.
$71,300.
I looked at Michael.
“What am I looking at?”
He didn’t answer.
I kept scrolling.
There were transfers.
Large transfers.
Repeated transfers.
And almost every one had one thing in common.
The money had originated from an account I recognized.
My account.
The account I had believed was paying for family emergencies.
My fingers began trembling.
“How…?”
Then I noticed the dates.
The transfers had been happening for years.
But I had never authorized them.
At least…
I didn’t think I had.
I opened another file.
It was an email.
From Haley.
To someone named Daniel Price.
The subject line was:
Mom Doesn’t Know Yet.
I clicked it.
The message was short.
David is getting suspicious.
Another email.
We need Allison to keep trusting us.
Another.
Once the condo is transferred, everything changes.
I stopped breathing.
The condo.
David’s aunt’s condo.
The one Haley and Greg were living in.
I scrolled faster.
Then I found something that made my entire body go cold.
A scanned legal document.
A property transfer agreement.
My name was on it.
So was Haley’s.
But there was something wrong.
The signature at the bottom looked like mine.
Almost exactly.
Except I had never signed it.
Michael saw my face.
“What is it?”
I pointed at the screen.
“They forged my signature.”
He stared at the document.
“Are you sure?”
“I know my own signature.”
I looked closer.
Then I saw the date.
Six months before David died.
The same month he had started investigating my family.
And below the signature was a note:
Transfer scheduled after David’s death.
My stomach turned.
“After his death?”
Michael’s face became pale.
“Allison…”
I clicked another file.
This one was an audio recording.
The filename was simply:
MAY 14 — HALEY/GREG
I pressed play.
At first there was only static.
Then voices.
Haley.
And Greg.
I recognized them immediately.
Haley was laughing.
“David thinks he’s protecting her.”
Greg replied:
“He’s becoming a problem.”
Haley’s voice dropped.
“Then we have to make sure Allison never sees those documents.”
My hand flew to my mouth.
Greg asked:
“What if David tells her?”
There was a long pause.
Then Haley said something that made the room seem to disappear around me.
“Then we deal with David first.”
The recording continued.
But I couldn’t hear the next few seconds.
My ears were ringing.
Michael reached for the laptop.
“Stop it.”
I couldn’t move.
He paused the recording.
I stared at the screen.
“David knew.”
Michael nodded slowly.
“And he was afraid.”
I looked at the boxes.
Suddenly, the entire room felt different.
This wasn’t just about my family taking money.
This wasn’t just about a forged signature.
David had been investigating them.
He had been protecting me.
And six months ago, he had died on Interstate 90.
A semi-truck lost control.
An accident.
That’s what everyone had said.
I looked at the audio file again.
Then at the date.
May 14.
David died six months later.
I whispered:
“Michael…”
“Yes?”
“What if David’s death wasn’t an accident?”
Michael didn’t answer.
Because neither of us knew.
But for the first time since David died, I felt something stronger than grief.
I felt fear.
And underneath the fear…
Something else.
Determination.
I opened the final folder.
There was only one file.
A video.
The filename was:
WATCH THIS LAST.
I clicked it.
The screen went black.
Then David appeared.
Sitting in this very storage unit.
Looking directly into the camera.
His face was serious.
He looked exhausted.
But alive.
My breath caught in my throat.
“Hi, Allie.”
I covered my mouth.
David smiled sadly.
“If you’re watching this, something has gone terribly wrong.”
He leaned closer to the camera.
“And before you believe anyone who tells you that my death was simply an accident…”
He paused.
“Look at the truck.”
My heart stopped.
“The truck that hit me had a problem before it ever reached the highway.”
The video continued.
“And I have proof.”
Then David said six words that made my blood run cold.
“Your father paid someone to sabotage it.”
The screen went black.
I couldn’t breathe.
Michael stared at me.
Neither of us spoke.
