Right after our daughter’s funeral, my husband insisted on quickly throwing out all her things from the kids’ room, but while cleaning, I found her note…

The dirt thudded dully against the coffin lid. Emily flinched, as if each impact struck her heart. Her legs buckled; if not for Sarah, her school friend, gripping her elbow tightly, she would have collapsed right there on the rain-soaked cemetery ground.

«Hold on, Emily, hold on,» Sarah whispered, but the words came through as if muffled by cotton. The world around her lost its sharpness. Blurred silhouettes in black, bowed heads, hushed voices—only the coffin with Olivia’s body remained agonizingly real.

Eighteen years old. Just eighteen. So many plans, so many hopes, all cut short on the night interstate.

Emily lifted her eyes, trying to find her husband. Michael stood aside, a bit away from the main group. Straight back, compressed lips, impassive face.

In twenty years of marriage, she had never learned to understand what lay behind that mask of restraint, especially in recent years when something intangible had changed between them.

«Please accept our condolences,» someone said, touching her shoulder. Emily nodded, not distinguishing faces.

What difference did it make who spoke those empty, meaningless words? Olivia was gone. Her girl, her only child, her continuation in this world.

The ceremony was ending; people began to disperse, casting sympathetic glances at her.

Michael finally approached, touching her elbow. «It’s time for us to go,» he said quietly, «the rain is getting heavier.»

Emily didn’t move from the spot.

Leave Olivia here, alone, in the damp earth? How could she walk away?

«Emily,» steel notes appeared in her husband’s voice, «we can’t change anything by staying here.»

Sarah hugged her shoulders. «I’ll walk you to the car. Come on, Em, you need to rest.»

In the car, Emily sat with her forehead pressed against the cold glass. Raindrops streamed down the window, blurring the world outside.

Michael drove confidently, as always. His profile seemed carved from stone. Not a single muscle twitched.

«I need to stop at one place,» he suddenly said, turning off the usual route.

«Where?» Emily struggled to focus her gaze.

«To the local charity donation center. I want to check their operating hours.»

Emily looked at her husband incomprehensibly. «Why?»..

Michael threw her a quick glance.

«We need to sort through Olivia’s things as soon as possible. Donate what might be useful to others.»

Something cold gripped Emily’s heart.

«But Olivia’s things… But… it’s only been a few hours since the funeral…»

«That’s exactly why,» Michael cut her off, not taking his eyes off the road. «The longer we cling to the past, the harder it will be to move forward. It’s like ripping off a Band-Aid. Better to do it quickly.»

Emily looked at him in bewilderment. This wasn’t the Michael she knew.

Or maybe she had never truly known him.

«I’m not ready,» Emily said quietly. «Not now.»

«You will be,» his voice sounded almost irritated. «We can’t turn the house into a museum. It’s unhealthy.»

The rest of the drive passed in silence. At home, Emily immediately went up to the bedroom, unable to speak or listen anymore. She took the sleeping pill prescribed by the doctor and fell into a heavy, restless sleep.

She woke to the sound of a voice. Michael was talking on the phone, standing in the hallway. The clock showed half past two in the morning.

«Everything’s going according to plan,» his muffled voice came. «Tomorrow we’ll get rid of the things. No, she suspects nothing. Just do as we agreed.»

Emily froze, not understanding what it was about. Michael returned to the bedroom, and she pretended to be asleep.

There was something wrong in his words, in his tone, but her grief-exhausted mind refused to analyze it.

In the morning, she woke to the sound of footsteps and the rustling of cardboard. Michael brought in a stack of folded boxes and set them by the bed.

«Good morning,» he said in a businesslike tone. «I’ve arranged it. The movers will come the day after tomorrow. Today and tomorrow, we need to pack everything.»

He placed a sheet of paper on the bed. «Here’s the list of things to pack. I’ve marked what can be donated, what to throw away. Don’t forget to check her closet and desk.»

Emily took the list with trembling hands.

It included everything, from clothes to textbooks, from bedding to photos on the walls.

«Michael, I can’t!» her voice broke. «It’s only been a day. How can you rush like this?»

Her husband’s face twisted; he sharply raised his voice. «Enough clinging to the past. We need to live on.»

«You think it’s easy for me? You think I’m not suffering?»

Something cold and alien flashed in his eyes, making Emily recoil. He had never spoken to her in that tone.

Noticing her reaction, Michael immediately softened, sat beside her, and hugged her shoulders.

«I’m sorry, I’m grieving too. But this will help us both. The sooner we remove the reminders, the easier it will be to heal the wound. Trust me.»

Emily nodded, lacking the strength to argue. Maybe he was right? Maybe this was some male way of coping with grief?

After breakfast, which she couldn’t eat, the doorbell rang.

On the threshold stood Mrs. Patricia Johnson, the neighbor from downstairs, with a large pie in her hands.

«Emily, dear!» the elderly woman hugged her. «What a tragedy! What a terrible tragedy! I brought a pie. For the memorial. Strength to you, honey.»

Emily led the neighbor to the kitchen, put on the kettle. Mrs. Johnson said something comforting, but the words didn’t reach her consciousness.

Going out into the hallway for sugar, she heard a muffled conversation in the living room.

«And the insurance, did you manage to get it before…» «Hush!» Michael interrupted her sharply.

Emily froze.

«What insurance? What are they talking about?»

But when she returned, the conversation had shifted to another topic.

After the neighbor left, Michael said he was going to the office. Needed to handle formalities. With leave, due to family circumstances.Family vacation packages

Left alone, Emily slowly went up to her daughter’s room. Olivia’s room was bright, with blue walls and white furniture.

Poster of her favorite music band, photos with friends, stack of textbooks on the desk. Everything as usual. As if her daughter had just stepped out for a minute and would return any second.

Emily sat on the bed, ran her hand over the blanket. How many times she had sat here, talking with her daughter about school, boys, the future.

Olivia wanted to become a biologist, study marine animals.

«Imagine, Mom, I’ll be able to swim with dolphins right at work!» her ringing voice seemed to still echo in the room.

With a heavy sigh, Emily opened the closet and began mechanically folding clothes into bags. Each item evoked memories.

Here’s the dress Olivia wore to her ninth-grade prom. Here’s the scarf they chose together last winter.Healthcare insurance

Emily pulled out the blue silk dress, Olivia’s favorite dress. She bought it with her first paycheck from a summer job…

«Look, Mom, it’s just like the one that actress from the series wears!»

Emily pressed the dress to her face, inhaling the faint scent of her daughter, a mix of her perfume and something intangibly familiar.

Michael entered without knocking.

Seeing Emily with the dress, he frowned and quickly approached, snatching the fabric from her hands. «This isn’t needed by anyone anymore! Don’t torture yourself!»

He tossed the dress into the open bag for charity and left without waiting for a response.

Emily remained sitting, staring at the closed door.

Something was happening. Something she didn’t understand.

Her gaze fell on Olivia’s school backpack, tossed by the desk.Healthcare insurance

Emily pulled it toward her, unzipped it. Inside were textbooks, notebooks, a pencil case with colorful pens. All so ordinary. So alive.

She took out the biology textbook, the most worn one, with many bookmarks. Olivia loved that subject.

Flipping through the pages, Emily noticed an inserted sheet. Not a bookmark, a note, folded in quarters.

Unfolding it, Emily saw her daughter’s handwriting, uneven, as if written in haste or agitation.

«Mommy, if you’re reading this, urgently look under the bed, and you’ll understand everything.»

Her heart skipped a beat. Emily reread the note three times, not believing her eyes.

What did this mean, when did Olivia write it, and what was she supposed to understand?

Glancing at the door, Emily dropped to her knees and looked under the bed. In the far corner, almost at the wall, she noticed something dark. A box, taped to the bed frame.Healthcare insurance

As she reached for it, footsteps sounded in the hallway from Michael.

By dinner, Emily came down with a carefully rehearsed expression, a mix of grief and fatigue, behind which she could hide fear. Michael was already waiting at the table.

He had ordered food from a restaurant, her favorite pasta with seafood. «You haven’t eaten almost anything since yesterday,» he said, filling the glasses with wine. «You need to keep your strength up.»

Emily sat opposite, feeling like an actress in a deadly dangerous play. Every gesture, every word could give her away. She had hidden the backpack with the documents in the ventilation shaft in the bathroom, the only place Michael definitely wouldn’t look.

«Thanks.» She took the fork, forcing herself to eat. «You’re right, I need to eat.»

Michael watched her with a slight smile. Before, that smile seemed warm, familiar to her. Now she saw something predatory in it.

«I spoke with the school principal,» he said, sipping wine. «They’re collecting money for a memorial plaque for Olivia, want to install it in the biology classroom.»

Emily nodded, fighting back approaching tears.

Olivia loved biology so much, dreamed of becoming a marine biologist, studying dolphins.

«That’s good,» she said, «she would have liked that kind of memory.»

«I made a donation on our behalf, a large sum. I think it’s right.»

Emily looked closely at her husband. Where did he get the money for a «large sum» if the documents Olivia found spoke of serious debts? Only if the «insurance,» he had already received the money for their daughter’s death.Healthcare insurance

«Very generous of you,» she said, trying to keep her voice even, especially considering our financial situation.

Michael froze for a moment, then casually shrugged. Business at the firm is going better lately, besides, there are things more important than money.

He raised his glass, as if toasting. «To the memory of Olivia! And to our future!»

Emily raised her glass, but at that moment noticed a strange movement of Michael’s hand. He turned away for a second, and it seemed to her that he dropped something into her wine, or was it her imagination, paranoia after everything she had learned.

«To the memory!» she echoed, but didn’t drink, only clinked glasses with him.

Michael didn’t take his eyes off her, waiting for her to take a sip. Emily set the glass down, returned to her food.

«I’m so tired today, probably going to bed early.»

«Drink the wine!» Michael said insistently. «It will help you relax. I specially chose your favorite.»

Emily smiled through force. «Thanks, but I think alcohol will only make my headache worse right now. Better to take a sedative.»

She stood from the table, feeling her back muscles tense under his gaze, without turning, went upstairs to the bedroom, closed the door, and leaned against it, shaking with fear.

He had spiked the wine, she was almost sure. What was it? Sleeping pills? Or something more dangerous? Maybe he decided not to wait six months, but to speed things up?

Emily went to the bathroom, locked the door, and retrieved the backpack with documents from the ventilation shaft. She needed to make copies, hide them in different places. If something happened to her, the evidence had to reach the police.

She took out her phone and began photographing each document, every page of correspondence. Then uploaded everything to cloud storage and sent copies to her work email. After thinking, she created a new email account and sent copies there, writing down the login details on a scrap of paper, which she hid in her makeup bag.

Finishing, Emily heard Michael’s footsteps. He was coming up the stairs. Quickly returning the backpack to the hiding spot, she turned on the faucet, pretending to wash up.

The bedroom door opened; Emily turned off the water, wiped her face with a towel, and came out of the bathroom. Michael sat on the edge of the bed with pills and a glass of water. «Brought your sedative,» he said.

«You forgot it downstairs.»..

Emily froze. She hadn’t taken the sedative to dinner, hadn’t mentioned a specific medication, just said she’d take something instead of wine.

«Thanks.» She approached, took the glass and pills. «You’re very caring.»

Michael didn’t leave, watching her, waiting for her to take the medicine. Emily brought the pills to her mouth, pretended to swallow, washed down with water. In reality, she tucked them between her gums and cheek, as she had learned in childhood when she didn’t want to take bitter mixtures.

«Good,» Michael nodded, standing up, «now lie down, you need to rest. Tomorrow is a tough day, the movers are coming, need to oversee everything.»

He leaned down, kissed her forehead.

Emily suppressed the urge to recoil; his lips felt icy. «I’ll be up soon,» he said, «just finishing some things downstairs.»

When he left, Emily spit out the pills into a tissue.

Two small white pills, not her usual sedative, which was in capsule form. What were they? She wrapped them in the tissue and hid it in her robe pocket. She’d find out later.

Emily lay in bed, pulling the blanket up to her chin. She pretended to sleep when Michael returned. He stood over her for a long time, peering at her face, then carefully checked her pulse on her neck.

Satisfied, he undressed and lay beside her.

Emily lay motionless, regulating her breathing to seem like she was fast asleep. Through half-closed eyelids, she watched as Michael took out his phone, texted someone, then set an alarm and turned off the light.

The night dragged on endlessly. Emily was afraid to move, so as not to give herself away. When Michael’s breathing became even and deep, she carefully turned her head, glanced at the clock.

Three in the morning. If he had planned something, it wasn’t for tonight. Maybe the pills were just sleeping pills, so she’d sleep soundly while he searched the house.

That thought made her tense. What if he found the backpack with documents? What if he already had and was just waiting for the right moment?

Michael suddenly stirred. And Emily froze.

But he only turned to the other side, continuing to sleep. She exhaled in relief.

She needed to act. Tomorrow. Go to the police, show the evidence, but would they believe her or decide it was the ravings of a grief-stricken mother looking for someone to blame in her daughter’s accidental death?Healthcare insurance

No, the documents alone weren’t enough. She needed more solid evidence, needed Michael to incriminate himself.

Record his confession, make him slip up? A plan began to form in Emily’s head. Risky, dangerous, but she saw no other way out.

Tomorrow, when the movers come, she’d have a chance to slip out of the house.

She needed to meet someone who could help, but who? She went through acquaintances in her mind. Most were mutual friends with Michael; she couldn’t trust them. Parents long dead, brother lives in another state.

Friends, Sarah? No, she’s too emotional, might ruin everything. Who then?

And then Emily remembered Alex. An old family friend, works as a detective.

They hadn’t spoken in several years, but they used to be close. He’d help, he had to help.

Decision made. Tomorrow she’d meet Alex, show the documents, and for now, she needed to sleep at least a little to keep a clear mind.Family vacation packages

The morning started with a phone call. Michael was already awake, sitting in the kitchen with his laptop.

Emily came down, feigning sleepiness and slight disorientation, like someone who had taken strong sleeping pills.

«Good morning!» Michael smiled at her. «How did you sleep?»

«Very soundly.» Emily rubbed her eyes, «I don’t even remember falling asleep. What were those pills?»

«Regular sedative.» He shrugged. «You were just very exhausted, so it hit harder.»

Emily nodded, pouring herself coffee. «What time are the movers coming?»

«At eleven,» Michael looked at the clock. «We have two more hours to finish packing.»

Emily took a sip of coffee, gathering her thoughts. «You know, I was thinking. I need to go to Mom’s today. She’s really upset. She called yesterday while you were at the lawyer’s.»

This was a lie. Emily’s mother had died three years ago, but Michael often mixed up details about her family. It was a chance to test his reaction.Family vacation packages

Michael frowned. «To Mom’s? But you said she was at the nursing home until the end of the month.»

Emily tensed inwardly. He remembered that detail. Her fabrication failed.

«Yes, exactly,» she tried to correct herself. «I meant call her. And also stop by work, pick up documents. They asked me to sign some papers for the project.»

Michael looked at her closely. «I can drive you?»..

«No-no,» Emily hastened to object. «You need to be here when the movers come. I’ll manage myself, really.»

She saw doubt in his eyes. Did he suspect something? Or was it her paranoia?

«Okay,» he finally agreed. «Just don’t stay long. And take a cab both ways. I don’t want you driving in this state.»

Emily nodded in relief. «Of course. I’ll be quick.»

She went upstairs, changed, took her bag. She had to leave the backpack with documents in the hiding spot; too risky to take it out now. But copies of the most important papers were on her phone.

Coming downstairs, Emily found that Michael had ordered a cab for her through an app. «The car will be here in five minutes,» he said. «I’ll track it to make sure you get there okay.»

Emily went cold. He’d be able to see exactly where she went. That ruined the whole plan.

«Thanks, but I already called one,» she lied. «Habit.»

Michael frowned. «Cancel it. Mine’s already coming.»

He insisted too strongly. Emily realized there was no choice; she’d have to take the cab he ordered. But how to meet Alex then?

«Okay,» she smiled through force. «You’re right, it’s safer.»

The cab arrived, and Emily left the house, feeling Michael’s gaze on her back. She gave the driver the address of her office. Let Michael see she didn’t lie about work, and then she’d improvise.

«Riverside Cafe on the waterfront,» she told the driver, texting Alex. «Need urgent meeting, life and death, at Riverside in twenty minutes.»

The reply came almost immediately: Be there. What’s wrong?

«Explain in person. It’s about Olivia’s death.»

Getting out of the cab, Emily looked around. No one was following her, but the sense of danger lingered.

She entered the cafe, chose a table in the far corner, from where the entrance was clearly visible.

Alex appeared ten minutes later, tall, fit, with gray in his dark hair. Years had added wrinkles around his eyes, but his gaze remained attentive, sharp.

«Emily!» he hugged her tightly. «My condolences. I wanted to come to the funeral, but I was on assignment.»

She nodded, feeling tears welling up. «Thanks for coming now. This is very important.»

They sat at the table. Alex ordered coffee, looking at Emily attentively. «What happened? You look scared.»

Emily looked around, lowered her voice. «Olivia didn’t die by accident. Michael arranged the crash for the insurance. Now I’m next.»

Alex looked at Emily with a long, studying gaze. Concern was in his eyes, but also professional caution, a detective used to separating facts from emotions.

«That’s a serious accusation,» he said finally. «Do you have proof?»

Emily took out her phone, opened the folder with photos of the documents. «Olivia compiled a whole dossier on Michael, found his correspondence with some mechanic about dealing with the stepdaughter problem, here are the insurance policies on both of us, here are statements about his debts, here are photos with his mistress.»

Alex carefully scrolled through the shots; his face grew more serious. «When did you find this?»

«Yesterday. Olivia left a note in her textbook, knowing I’d be going through her things. Michael is rushing to clear everything out, destroy it; he scheduled movers for today.»

Alex thoughtfully tapped his fingers on the table. «The correspondence indirectly points to crime preparation, but there’s no direct evidence of his involvement in the crash here; we need something more concrete.»

Emily leaned forward. «So find it, check Olivia’s car, question that mechanic, find out who the woman in the photo is, do something before he kills me too.»

Alex covered her hand with his. «I’ll help you, Emily, but we need to act carefully; if Michael is really a killer, he’s dangerous, especially if he senses a threat.»

He took a sip of coffee, thinking over the situation. «Olivia’s car has already been scrapped; police closed the case as an accident, but I can request a re-examination based on new circumstances.»

Emily nervously glanced at the cafe door. «I have little time. Yesterday he spiked my wine, then gave me some pills; I pretended to take them.»

She took the tissue with the two white pills from her pocket. «Here they are. I don’t know what they are, but definitely not my usual medicine.»

Alex carefully took the tissue. «I’ll send them for analysis; if it’s something dangerous, we’ll have direct evidence.»

He photographed the pills, wrapped them back in the tissue, and put it in his inner pocket. «You can’t go back home; I’ll arrange a safe place.»

Emily shook her head. «Can’t. He tracks my cab through the app; if I don’t return, he’ll know I know something; besides, the original documents are still at home, in the hiding spot; I need to get them.»

Alex frowned. «Too dangerous. Let me send operatives.»

«No.» Emily almost cried out. «No police at the house. He’s cunning, will deny everything, make me look crazy. The documents are my only protection.»

Alex sighed. «Okay, but I’ll give you a bug, a small microphone; you’ll record all conversations with him. If lucky, he’ll slip up.»

He took out a tiny device the size of a button from his pocket. «Attaches to clothing, or put in pocket; battery lasts a day; recording goes to my server.»

Emily took the microphone, hid it in her blouse pocket. «How do I contact you if something happens?»

«Call this number,» Alex wrote digits on a napkin, «any time, and send messages every three hours. If you miss even one check-in, I’ll come with a SWAT team.»..

He squeezed her hand firmly. «Be careful, don’t provoke him. Pretend you know nothing. As soon as I have the pill analysis results, I’ll start official action.»

Emily nodded, feeling both fear and relief. Now she wasn’t alone.

«I have to go,» she said, looking at the clock. «The movers are due.»

Alex walked her to the door. «I’ll be in touch. And remember, your safety is more important than any evidence.»

Emily caught a cab, gave the address of her office. Needed to make it seem like she was returning from there.

On the way, she checked her phone. Three missed calls from Michael. She didn’t call back. Let him think she was in a meeting.

Approaching the house, Emily saw a truck at the gate. Movers were carrying out furniture from Olivia’s room.

Her heart clenched in pain. The material traces of her daughter’s presence were disappearing before her eyes.

Michael stood at the entrance, directing the process. Seeing his wife, he quickly approached. «Where were you? I called several times.»

«Sorry, there was a meeting.» Emily tried to speak calmly. «Then had to go to accounting, sign vacation papers.»

Michael looked at her closely, as if trying to catch a lie. «I was worried. Thought you felt bad.»

«I’m fine.» Emily tried to smile. «Just a lot piled up.»

She went into the house, trying not to look at the movers carrying out Olivia’s things.

Went up to their bedroom, took off her coat. Michael followed her. «I’ve packed almost everything. Left the small stuff in her closet and dresser.»

Emily nodded, not trusting her voice. How could he be so cold-blooded? How could he methodically destroy all traces of the life of the girl he raised since she was eight?

«I’ll finish myself,» she said finally. «I need to say goodbye.»

Michael hesitated, then nodded. «Okay. I’ll be downstairs, overseeing the loading.»

When he left, Emily quietly went to the bathroom. Needed to retrieve the backpack with original documents from the vent.

She turned on the water to muffle the sound and carefully removed the vent grate. Empty. The backpack was gone.

Emily felt a chill inside. He found it. Michael discovered the hiding spot and took the evidence.

When? How? She was sure he hadn’t gone into the bathroom after she hid the documents. Unless… Unless he had been watching her all along. Unless he knew from the start that she found Olivia’s box.

With trembling hands, Emily replaced the grate. What now? Run? But where? And what if he already disposed of the documents? Then she’d only have copies on her phone. Not enough for a murder charge.

She came out of the bathroom and froze. Michael stood in the bedroom doorway. «Looking for something?» he asked in a deceptively soft voice.

«No, just washing up.» Emily tried to speak calmly. But her heart pounded so hard, it seemed he must hear it.

Michael slowly entered the room. «Strange. It seemed to me you were searching in the vent.»

He knew. All this time he knew and played with her like a cat with a mouse.

«There was mold there,» Emily lied. «I noticed yesterday, wanted to check if it got worse.»

Michael smiled a cold, alien smile. «Mold, of course. And not this, by chance?»

He pulled a flash drive from his pocket, the very one from the box with Olivia’s documents. «Where’s the backpack?» Emily asked, realizing pretending further was pointless.

«In a safe place,» Michael tossed the flash drive in his palm. «Like the rest of the papers. You know, Olivia was a smart girl, too smart for her own good. And you’re following in her footsteps.»

He took a step toward her. «Who did you meet today? Don’t say you were at work. I called there. You were seen in the morning, but then you left through the back door.»

Emily backed toward the window. «I met a friend. I needed to talk it out.»

«Lying!» Michael shook his head. «You’re lying all the time. You think I don’t see? You think I don’t notice how you’ve changed in the last two days?»

He approached closer. «You found Olivia’s box, read the documents, and now you’re plotting against me.»

Emily felt her back hit the windowsill. No further retreat. «You killed her,» she said, looking him in the eyes. «Killed our daughter for money.»

«Ours?» Michael smirked. «She was never my daughter. Spoiled, arrogant brat, always sticking her nose where it doesn’t belong. She became an obstacle.»

He spoke so calmly, so matter-of-factly, as if discussing the weather or utility bills.

Emily realized with horror that she completely didn’t know the man she had lived with for twenty years.

«An obstacle for what?» she asked, hoping the microphone was recording every word…

Michael shrugged. «For a new life. I’m tired, Emily. Tired of this marriage, this house, the role of the exemplary family man. I needed money to start over. Olivia’s insurance was just the first step.»

He paused, looking at her closely. «You were supposed to be next. In six months, when the noise around her death quiets, an accident, tragic coincidence, grief-stricken husband gets the insurance and starts a new life.»

Emily felt nausea rising in her throat. «You’re a monster.»

«I’m a pragmatist,» Michael objected. «And I was patient, waiting years for the right moment. But Olivia ruined everything with her curiosity. And now you’re going the same way.»

He suddenly smiled, almost affectionately. «But it’s not too late to fix everything. Tell me, who did you meet today? Who did you show the documents to?»

Emily was silent. Naming Alex would sign his death warrant. Michael wouldn’t leave witnesses.

«Silent?» he sighed. «Well, we’ll find out another way.»

He took out his phone, opened some app. «Interesting, where did you go after the office? Cabs and GPS trackers, you can’t escape them now.»

Emily went cold. She hadn’t thought of that. The cab took her straight to the cafe where she met Alex.

«Riverside!» Michael drawled, looking at the screen. «Nice place. Who was your companion?»

He quickly scrolled something on the phone. «Ha! Here’s the surveillance camera. Let’s see.»

Emily lunged forward, trying to snatch the phone, but Michael easily intercepted her hand. «Don’t be stupid, it won’t change anything.»

From downstairs came the voice of the lead mover. «Mr. Davis, we’re done with the furniture. What about the boxes in the living room?»

Michael didn’t release Emily’s hand, shouted back. «Be down in a minute. Load what you’ve carried out for now.»

He turned to his wife. «We’ll have to continue this conversation later. For now…»

Michael yanked Emily toward him, spun her, and twisted her arm behind her back. Before she could scream, he clamped her mouth with his free hand. «Quiet, not a sound.»

He pushed her to the closet, opened the door, and pulled out a roll of duct tape. «Sorry for the roughness, but you leave me no choice.»

Emily tried to break free, but Michael’s grip was iron. He quickly and skillfully wrapped duct tape around her wrists, then sat her on the bed and stuck a wide strip over her mouth.

«Sit quietly while I deal with the movers,» he said, checking the strength of the improvised restraints. «Then we’ll talk about your new friend.»

He left, locking the door from outside.

Emily was left alone, mouth taped, hands bound. Panic washed over her in a wave.

What now? How to call for help? How to warn Alex?

The microphone. She still had it on her blouse. Alex must have heard the whole conversation, must have understood she was in danger.

But how long would it take him to get here? And what would Michael do to her before that?

Emily feverishly looked around. Needed to free herself. Needed a way to remove the duct tape from her hands.

She noticed a glass vase with flowers on the nightstand. If she broke it, she could use a shard to cut the tape.

Carefully, trying not to make noise, Emily stood from the bed and approached the nightstand. Turning her back, she felt the vase with her bound hands and slowly pushed it to the edge.

The vase fell onto the carpet with a dull thud but didn’t break. Emily moaned quietly in despair.

What now? Downstairs, voices of movers and Michael’s commanding tone. They were finishing up. He’d be back soon.

Her gaze fell on the mirror of the dressing table. Break it? But how? Hands bound, mouth taped, can’t scream.

And then she noticed her phone on the dresser. Michael forgot to take it in the rush.

If only she could send a message to Alex. Emily awkwardly approached the dresser, turned her back, felt the phone with her bound hands.

But a new problem arose. How to unlock the screen? The fingerprint scanner was on the back, and she had to contort to reach it with her thumb. After several attempts, the screen lit up…

Now needed to open the messenger and find Alex’s contact. She turned the phone in her hands, trying to tap icons with her fingertip. Each movement was hard, but despair gave her strength.

From downstairs came Michael’s farewell words to the movers. Time was running out.

Finally, Emily opened the chat with Alex and began typing a message.

SOS, home, tied.

She didn’t manage more; the key turned in the lock. Emily quickly dropped the phone on the dresser and darted to the bed.

Managed to sit a second before the door opened. Michael entered, holding some case. «Movers left,» he announced, setting the case on the table.

«Now we can talk calmly.»

He approached her, carefully inspected the tape on her wrists. «Didn’t try to free yourself? Smart girl, it would be useless.»

Michael noticed the fallen vase and frowned. «Though no, you did try. Bad idea, Emily, very bad.»

He picked up the vase, put it back on the nightstand, then with a sharp motion ripped the tape from her lips. Emily cried out in pain.

«Sorry,» Michael winced, «like a Band-Aid, better all at once. Remember, you didn’t want to do that with Olivia’s things. Turns out I was right.»

He went to the case, opened it.

Inside, Emily saw medical instruments, ampoules, syringes. «What are you going to do?» she asked, trying to sound firm.

Michael took out a syringe and ampoule. «First, calm you down. You’re too agitated. And we have a long conversation ahead.»

He filled the syringe with clear liquid. «This will help you relax and answer my questions honestly. Who did you tell about the documents? Who else knows?»

Emily scooted to the headboard. «I didn’t tell anyone. I swear.»

«Lying again!» Michael shook his head. «You were at Riverside Cafe. Who did you meet? Who did you show copies of the documents to?»

He approached closer, syringe ready. Emily tried to crawl away but hit the wall.

«Please, Michael, let’s talk. I didn’t show anything to anyone. Just wanted to be alone, think.»

«Last chance to tell the truth.» Michael loomed over her. «Who was with you at the cafe?»

Emily was silent.

Michael sighed. «Well, we’ll find out another way.» He grabbed her shoulder, preparing to inject the needle.

At that moment, the doorbell rang downstairs. Michael froze, listening. «Expecting someone?» he asked, squeezing her shoulder painfully.

Emily shook her head. «No? Maybe neighbors or delivery?»

The bell rang again, more insistently. Michael hesitated, then put the syringe on the nightstand.

«Don’t move. I’ll be back soon.» He left, locking the door again.

Emily heard his footsteps on the stairs. Then the sound of the front door opening and muffled voices. She couldn’t make out words, but one voice seemed familiar.

Alex? Had he gotten her message and come? Or coincidence? Either way, it was a chance. Maybe the only one.

Emily darted to the dresser again, grabbed the phone. The message to Alex was still unfinished. She quickly added: In bedroom. Second floor. Help.

And hit send.

Voices downstairs grew louder. Seemed Michael was arguing with the visitor. Emily looked around for something to help free herself.

Her gaze fell on the desk lamp with a sharp metal base. She approached the table, turned her back, and began rubbing the tape against the sharp edge. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, the tape began to give.

Sweat beaded on her forehead from effort, but Emily kept sawing her improvised bonds. From downstairs came the sound of the front door slamming. Michael was returning.

Emily doubled her efforts, feeling the tape finally yielding. A bit more. There…

«In case of life threat, it does,» Alex objected. «Plus, we have something else. The pills you gave Emily yesterday turned out to be a mix of potent drugs, lethal in that dose.»

He stepped toward Michael. «And we found your… mechanic. He’s already giving statements. Telling how you paid him to sabotage the brake system in Olivia’s car.»

Michael’s face twisted in rage. «He’s lying. No evidence.»

«There is,» Alex replied calmly, «bank transfers, phone records, and of course, the documents Olivia collected. By the way, where are they?»

Michael was silent, lips pressed.

Emily, leaning against the wall, watched them. She still couldn’t believe the nightmare was ending.

«Doesn’t matter,» Alex continued, «we’ll find them in the search. Now turn around and put your hands behind your back.»

Michael slowly turned but instead of complying, lunged forward sharply, trying to knock the gun out.

Alex jumped back, keeping distance. «Don’t be stupid, Davis! You’re only making it worse!»

Michael looked around like a cornered animal. His gaze fell on the open window.

Before Alex could react, he dashed to it. «Freeze!» Alex shouted, but Michael already vaulted over the sill. A shot rang out.

Emily screamed. Alex ran to the window, looked out. «Damn! He jumped onto the extension roof!»

He turned to Emily. «You okay? Can you stay alone? I need to catch him.»

Emily nodded, still shaking. «Yes, go, I’m fine.»

Alex quickly squeezed her shoulder. «Lock the door; backup will be here soon.» He ran out of the room.

Emily heard his footsteps on the stairs, then the front door slam.

She approached the window, looked out. Michael was running through the yard to the fence. Alex pursued him, gun ready.

Michael vaulted the fence and disappeared from view. Alex followed.

Emily closed the window, hugged herself. It all happened so fast. Just minutes ago, she was on the brink of death, and now… Now Michael knew he was exposed; he’d be desperate.

A desperate man is capable of anything. Emily suddenly remembered the backpack with documents. Michael said he hid it in a safe place.

Where could that be? In the house? In the car? She had to find those papers before he came back for them.

The car. Most likely, documents in the car. If Michael planned to get rid of her today, he must have prepared in advance. Gathered all evidence to destroy after her suicide.

Emily quickly went downstairs, out the back door to the garage.

Michael’s car was there; apparently, he decided to flee on foot to hide easier in the yards. Emily opened the door. Unlocked. Michael was always overconfident.

She began searching the interior, glove compartment, door pockets, under seats. Nothing.

Then she opened the trunk and froze. There lay her backpack, and next to it a gas can, rope, and some tools. All set for staging a suicide.

Emily grabbed the backpack, checked the contents. All documents there. She slammed the trunk and hurried back to the house…

Sirens wailed outside; backup approaching. In minutes, the yard filled with police cars. Officers in vests spread out around the perimeter.

Emily stepped onto the porch, holding the backpack. «Mrs. Davis!» an officer approached her. «You okay? Where’s Detective Carter?»

«He chased my husband! They went that way, over the fence,» Emily answered.

The officer nodded, gave orders on the radio. Several police headed in that direction.

«Come inside,» the officer gently took Emily by the elbow. «You need to sit. You’re in shock.»

She let him lead her to the living room, mechanically answering questions.

Yes, her husband planned to kill her. Yes, he confessed to killing Olivia. Yes, here are the documents collected by her daughter, here are the microphone recordings.

Time stretched, lost meaning. Emily sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket someone threw over her shoulders. Uniformed people bustled around, photographing, collecting evidence, talking on radios.

She felt like a spectator in a movie, watching someone else’s story.

Finally, the door opened, and Alex entered. His suit was rumpled, a scratch on his face, but his eyes shone with triumph.

«We got him, Emily. Michael’s under arrest.»

She looked up at him. «Did he resist?»

«Tried. But he had no choice. We cornered him by the river. I think he wanted to reach that bridge, the same one.»

Emily shuddered. «Where Olivia…»

«Yes,» Alex nodded. «But we didn’t let him. Now he’s being taken to holding; first interrogation tomorrow.»

He carefully took her hand. «It’s over, Emily. He won’t hurt anyone anymore.»

She shook her head. «Nothing’s over, Alex. Olivia’s dead. My girl won’t come back.»

Tears she had held back all this time finally broke through. Emily sobbed, burying her face in Alex’s shoulder, mourning her daughter, lost years, shattered life.

«I know,» he said quietly, hugging her. «I know. But now there’ll be justice for her, and you have a chance to live on. For her.»

Emily lifted her tear-streaked face. «How? How to live after this?»

Alex didn’t answer. And what could he say? What words could comfort a mother who lost her only child? Who learned the man she lived with for twenty years coldly killed her daughter and planned to kill her too.

«Day by day,» he said finally. «Just day by day. And one day it’ll get easier. Not today, not tomorrow, but it will.»

Emily nodded, wiping tears. «I want to see him. Before trial. Ask why? Why not just leave? Why kill?»

«You’ll get that chance,» Alex promised. «For now, you need rest. You can stay with me or a friend. Better not return to this house for a while.»

Emily looked around. The house where she lived fifteen years. Where Olivia grew up. Now it seemed alien, hostile.

«I’ll pack things,» she said, «and never come back here.»

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