Chapter 7 - MONICA'S CONFESSIONMonica arrived at my house at 2:00 a.m.
She was crying.
Not angry.
Not arrogant.
Terrified.
I almost didn't recognize her.
Ryan followed behind her.
“I didn't know,” she said.
“You knew enough.”
“I know.”
She sat down.
Then told me everything.
Monica had borrowed money from Richard's company.
She was drowning in debt.
Richard offered to erase part of it.
In exchange, she needed to allow a monitoring device to be installed near my property.
The Tesla was supposed to make everything look normal.
She didn't understand the larger operation.
She thought they were measuring electricity consumption for a new technology.
Then she discovered the truth.
“They were collecting data from houses.”
“Why?”
“To identify weaknesses.”
“What weaknesses?”
“Power infrastructure.”
I stared.
“They want to know which neighborhoods could be disrupted.”
Frank went silent.
Monica continued.
“Your house was selected because Thomas had worked with Northstar.”
“Why me?”
“Because they believed Thomas left information behind.”
I looked at her.
“Did you know he died?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know about the accident?”
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I knew Richard was angry with him.”
My heart stopped.
“You knew?”
“I didn't know what would happen.”
I stood.
“You let me believe my husband died in an accident.”
“I was scared.”
“You were charging your car from my house while someone investigated my family.”
“I know.”
“Why didn't you come to me?”
“Because Richard threatened my children.”
Silence.
That sentence changed everything.
I hated what Monica had done.
But I could see the fear now.
It didn't excuse her.
But it explained her.
The detective entered.
Monica looked at him.
“I'll testify.”
He nodded.
“Then you and your husband need protection.”
Ryan reached for her hand.
For the first time, I saw them as a family instead of enemies.
The next morning, authorities raided Richard's offices.
They found servers.
Financial records.
Hidden cameras.
Encrypted files.
And something else.
A folder labeled:
THOMAS BROOKS — DECEASED.
I couldn't stop myself.
I opened it.
Inside were photographs of Thomas.
Taken weeks before his death.
Leaving work.
Driving home.
Walking into our neighborhood.
And one photograph of me.
Taken through our bedroom window.
I felt sick.
Someone had watched us.
For years.
Then I saw the final document.
A death certificate.
But the date had been altered.
The detective frowned.
“Eleanor…”
“What?”
“The accident report says Thomas died at 11:42 p.m.”
He pointed to the file.
“This document was created at 12:17 a.m.”
“After he died?”
“Yes.”
“Who created it?”
He turned the screen toward me.
My hands went cold.
The account belonged to Richard Monroe.
But there was another name attached.
MONICA REED.
I looked at Monica.
She started crying.
“I didn't create that.”
“Then who did?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Suddenly the lights went out.
Everywhere.
The house became completely dark.
May you like
Then my phone received a message.
YOU FOUND THE WRONG PERSON.
