Chapter 4 - The Lie My Husband Built
I read the sentence three times.
Then I looked at my father.
“What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer immediately.
My heart began racing.
“Dad.”
“I don’t know.”
“You just told me my mother was afraid of Nathan. Now you’re telling me Daniel may not be his son.”
“I said the letter claims that.”
“Who is Daniel’s father?”
My father shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
I stared at the letter.
The handwriting was unmistakably my mother’s.
I remembered it from birthday cards.
From notes she had written before she died.
But the message made no sense.
Daniel had always been known as Nathan Cross’s only son.
The heir.
The billionaire’s child.
The man who inherited everything.
If he wasn’t Nathan’s biological son, then the entire Crosswell empire had been built on a lie.
My father looked toward the door.
“Emma, you need to understand something.”
“What?”
“Your mother didn’t trust the police.”
“Why?”
“Because she believed someone inside the department was working for Nathan.”
I felt a chill.
“Then how did she die?”
“She was found in her car.”
“Like the accident.”
“Yes.”
“Was she already dead?”
My father nodded.
“Before the crash.”
I closed my eyes.
My mother had been murdered.
And everyone had lied to me.
For thirty years.
Then I remembered Daniel.
His hands.
The pillow.
His face when my father caught him.
“She was never supposed to wake up.”
My stomach turned.
“Why would Daniel want me dead?”
My father stared at me.
“Maybe he knew who you were.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Maybe he discovered the truth.”
“What truth?”
He pointed to the letter.
“Your mother’s secret.”
I looked down.
There was another page inside the envelope.
I unfolded it.
The writing was shakier.
Nathan was not the only man who wanted me silent.
Below that was a name.
Margaret Cross.
Daniel’s mother.
My blood froze.
I whispered her name.
My father nodded slowly.
“Margaret was Nathan’s wife.”
“She knew about my mother?”
“She knew everything.”
I remembered Margaret’s cold smile.
The way she had always looked at me.
Not like a daughter-in-law.
Like an enemy.
Suddenly, her hatred made sense.
But there was more.
At the bottom of the page, my mother had written:
Margaret knows the truth about Daniel’s birth.
My hands shook.
The door opened.
A detective entered.
“Mrs. Hale?”
I nodded.
“My name is Detective Marcus Reed. I’m investigating the incident with your husband.”
My father immediately stood.
“I’ll be present.”
The detective nodded.
“Of course.”
I looked at him.
“Did Daniel confess?”
“Not exactly.”
“What does that mean?”
“He says he was trying to wake you.”
I almost laughed.
“With a pillow over my face?”
“He claims you were having a nightmare.”
My father’s jaw tightened.
“Then why did he say she wasn’t supposed to wake up?”
The detective looked at me.
“We heard that.”
“Who else was in the room?”
“Your father. A nurse. Two security officers.”
I stared at him.
“Then why isn’t Daniel in jail?”
“He has an attorney.”
Of course he did.
The detective handed me a folder.
“There’s something else.”
I opened it.
Inside were photographs of my house.
The nursery.
My bedroom.
My desk.
Then I saw something that made my blood turn cold.
A hidden camera.
Mounted inside our bedroom smoke detector.
I stared at the image.
“Who installed this?”
“We don’t know yet.”
My father took the photograph.
His face changed.
“Emma.”
“What?”
“This isn’t just a camera.”
“What is it?”
He pointed to the device.
“It’s a recording system.”
I looked at him.
“What does that mean?”
My father’s voice became very quiet.
“It may have been recording you for months.”
I stared at the photograph.
Then my phone buzzed.
A new message appeared.
You think Daniel is the monster?
May you like
Another message followed.
Ask your father what happened the night your mother died.
