Ryan had come back broke and desperate after a failed business deal. He owed money to men he was scared of. Grace had been feeding him money, telling herself she was protecting her daughter from his chaos.
Then I found the line that made my hands shake.
A week before the crash, someone left a note under my wiper: Drop it. Think of your wife.
For one sick second I just stared at her.
At the bottom of the page, Liam had written: If Mark gives you this, go to the storage unit. Toolbox. Underside. Don’t tell Grace.
I looked at Mark. “Did Liam think Ryan would hurt him?”
Mark rubbed a hand over his face. “He hoped not. But he was worried enough to leave me that envelope.”
I drove home in a daze and saw Grace through the kitchen window making pancakes with the kids.
For one sick second I just stared at her.
Then I went in smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
“Who wants lunch out?” I asked.
Then I went to the bank.
Ava looked up. “Can we get fries?”
“Yes.”
Ben gasped like I had offered him a pony.
Grace frowned. “I thought I was making—”
“I know. Thank you.” I kept smiling. “I just need to get them out for a bit.”
I took the kids with me first. I dropped them at our neighbor Nina’s house and said I had errands and might cry in public if she asked questions. She hugged me and took them inside.
That explained why Grace had been hovering over me ever since the funeral.
Then I went to the bank.
My name was on the children’s account too, so the manager was allowed to show me the file. Liam had frozen it two days before he died. No withdrawals without me present.
That explained why Grace had been hovering over me ever since the funeral.
She wasn’t just helping.
She was waiting.
