Derek arrived twenty minutes early.
The address Olivia had written led him to a small café in Tempe.
He parked across the street and waited.
At 10:27, Olivia appeared.
Derek’s chest tightened.
She looked exactly like his wife.
And somehow nothing like the woman who had left their apartment.
Jeans.
White blouse.
Hair tied back.
No wedding ring.
That was the first thing he noticed.
Olivia entered the café without looking toward his truck.
Derek followed.
She had chosen a table near the back.
There was already another woman sitting nearby.
Rachel Bennett.
Olivia’s attorney.
Derek understood immediately.
Olivia hadn’t come alone.
He sat opposite her.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Then Derek whispered:
“I’m sorry.”
Olivia looked at him calmly.
“For what?”.
The question destroyed the speech he’d practiced.
“For not believing you.”
“Which time?”
Derek lowered his eyes.
Olivia wasn’t being cruel.
That made it worse.
“The money. The key. My mother entering the apartment. Everything.”
Olivia folded her hands.
“Did you read the entire file?”
“Yes.”
“Then you know the card wasn’t why I left.”
“I know.”
“Your mother stealing it was almost useful.”
Derek frowned.
Olivia gave a humorless smile.
“She called you herself and complained that the card she’d stolen didn’t work.”
Derek looked away.
“Why didn’t you call the police?”
“I still might.”
He nodded.
He couldn’t argue.
“Liv, I didn’t know.”
“I told you.”
“I know.”
“No, Derek.”
Her voice remained quiet.
“I need you to understand the difference.”
He looked at her.
“You didn’t fail to know because nobody told you. You failed to know because every time I told you something uncomfortable about your mother, you explained it away.”
Derek said nothing.
Olivia continued.
“When eighty dollars disappeared, I forgot where I put it.”
“When my jewelry box moved, I was paranoid.”
“When I wanted the key returned, I was controlling.”
“When I asked why Marjorie needed our tax documents, I was creating drama.”
Each sentence landed separately.
Derek’s eyes burned.
“I was wrong.”
“Yes.”
There was no satisfaction in Olivia’s answer.
Just exhaustion.
Derek swallowed.
“Can I fix this?”
Olivia looked toward the window.
“I don’t know.”
That hurt more than no.
“But that’s not why I asked you here.”
Derek straightened.
“My dad.”
Olivia nodded.
“Your father.”
She reached into her bag and removed a small recorder.
Derek stared at it.
“Is that from Samuel?”
“A copy.”
“You heard the recordings?”
“Some.”
Derek felt his stomach tighten.
“What did Dad discover?”
Olivia didn’t answer immediately.
Instead she asked:
“What did Marjorie tell you about the week Edward died?”
Derek frowned.
“That he wasn’t feeling well.”
“Anything else?”
“He’d been tired.”
“Did she tell you he’d planned to leave the house?”
Derek stared at her.
“What?”
“Edward had rented an apartment.”
“No.”
“He’d already paid the deposit.”
Derek shook his head.
“My dad wouldn’t leave Mom.”
“He was going to.”
Olivia slid a photocopy across the table.
Lease agreement.
Edward Hale.
Move-in date:
May 12.
Four days after he died.
Derek’s hands went cold.
“Why?”
“Because he’d discovered the financial fraud.”
“The accounts?”
“Not just those.”
Olivia leaned forward.
“Your father believed Marjorie had been using his identity for years.”
Derek looked at the recorder.
“And he confronted her?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
Olivia’s eyes changed.
For the first time since arriving, her composure cracked slightly.
“Derek, before you hear this, I need you to understand something.”
His heartbeat quickened.
“What?”
“I am not saying your mother caused Edward’s death.”
Derek froze.
The café noise seemed to disappear.
“Why would you even say that?”
“Because of what you’re about to hear.”
His hand tightened around the recorder.
“My father had a heart attack.”
“Yes.”
“That’s what the hospital said.”
“Yes.”
“Then what are you suggesting?”
“I’m not suggesting anything.”
Olivia held his gaze.
“I’m telling you there are unanswered questions.”
Derek’s mouth went dry.
“What questions?”
Olivia pressed play.
Static filled the tiny speaker.
Then Derek heard a voice he hadn’t heard in almost three years.
His father’s.
“Marjorie, I’m done paying for your lies.”
Derek stopped breathing.
Marjorie’s voice followed.
“Lower your voice.”
Edward answered:
“I’m leaving Tuesday.”
A pause.
Then Marjorie laughed.
But it wasn’t a happy sound.
“No, Edward.”
Another pause.
“You’re not.”
Derek’s face drained of color.
The recording continued for several seconds.
Then Olivia reached across the table and stopped it.
Derek stared at her.
“Why did you stop?”
“Because the next part is why I couldn’t leave this in the apartment.”
Derek looked at the recorder.
Then back at his wife.
“What does she say?”
Olivia swallowed.
“She tells your father exactly what will happen if he tries to leave her.”
And for the first time that morning, Derek wasn’t thinking about his marriage.
He was wondering whether everything he’d believed about the last week of his father’s life had been a lie.
PART 15 — THE LAST ARGUMENT
Derek stared at the recorder.
“Play it.”
Olivia hesitated.
“Derek—”
“Please.”
She pressed the button.
Static.
Then Marjorie’s voice filled the small space between them.
“You walk out that door, Edward, and I will make sure Derek believes you abandoned us.”
Derek’s jaw tightened.
His father’s voice followed.
“He’s thirty-four years old, Marjorie. Stop using our son as a weapon.”
Silence.
Then Marjorie spoke again.
“Who do you think he’ll believe?”
Edward answered immediately.
“That’s exactly why I’ve documented everything.”
Derek stopped breathing.
Marjorie laughed.
“Documented what?”
“The accounts. The applications. The signatures. Everything.”
The recording crackled.
Then Edward said:
“Samuel has copies.”
A chair scraped.
Marjorie’s voice became sharper.
“You gave our private business to a lawyer?”
“I gave evidence to a lawyer.”
Another silence.
Then Edward said something Derek would remember for the rest of his life.
“If you use my name again after I’m gone, you won’t be able to bury it with me.”
Derek’s eyes filled.
His father had known exactly what Marjorie was capable of.
The recording continued.
Marjorie lowered her voice.
“You wouldn’t survive without me.”
Edward laughed once.
Tired.
“I’m starting to think surviving you is the problem.”
Then Marjorie said:
“You leave me, Edward, and I’ll make sure you regret every day you have left.”
Olivia stopped the recording.
Derek stared at the table.
For a long time, he said nothing.
Finally:
“When was this?”
“Six days before he died.”
Derek closed his eyes.
Six days.
“Did Samuel give this to the police?”
“No.”
Derek looked up sharply.
“Why not?”
“Because threatening words aren’t proof that Marjorie caused a heart attack.”
Olivia leaned forward.
“Edward had documented heart disease. There was no obvious evidence of violence. Samuel had suspicions, but suspicions aren’t evidence.”
Derek nodded slowly.
He appreciated that Olivia wasn’t turning uncertainty into an accusation.
Still, something bothered him.
“You said there were unanswered questions.”
“There are.”
“What?”
Olivia reached into her bag.
She removed another sheet.
It was a pharmacy record.
Edward Hale.
Derek recognized one of the medications immediately.
His father had taken it every day.
“What am I looking at?”
“Your father refilled this prescription twelve days before he died.”
Derek scanned the page.
Ninety tablets.
“Okay.”
“When Samuel collected Edward’s belongings after the dispute over the will, the medication bottle was listed in the inventory.”
Derek looked at her.
“And?”
“It contained eleven tablets.”
Derek frowned.
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“No.”
“He couldn’t have taken seventy-nine pills in twelve days.”
“No.”
Derek felt cold.
“Where did they go?”
“We don’t know.”
Olivia immediately raised a hand.
“And before you ask, no, that does not prove Marjorie did anything.”
“Then why does it matter?”
“Because your father apparently noticed medication disappearing before he died.”
She slid another photocopy toward him.
A handwritten page from Edward’s ledger.
Three lines were circled.
April 27 — pills short again.
April 30 — moved medication to office drawer.
May 2 — Marjorie asked why I moved it.
Derek stared.
His breathing became shallow.
“Dad thought Mom was taking his medication?”
“We don’t know what he thought.”
“But he was counting it.”
“Yes.”
Derek looked toward the recorder.
Then another memory surfaced.
The morning his father died.
Marjorie had called him at 5:42 a.m.
She’d been hysterical.
Your father collapsed.
Derek had rushed to the hospital.
By the time he arrived, Edward was dead.
“Who found him?”
Olivia’s expression changed.
“Marjorie.”
“Was anyone else home?”
“No.”
Derek swallowed.
“What time did she call 911?”
Olivia didn’t answer.
Instead, she pushed another page toward him.
Emergency dispatch record.
Derek read the time.
5:18 a.m.
Then he remembered something.
His mother had told him Edward collapsed around four-thirty.
Derek looked up.
“That’s almost fifty minutes.”
Olivia nodded.
“That’s one of the unanswered questions.”
“Why did she wait?”
“I don’t know.”
Derek pushed back from the table.
“I need to ask her.”
Olivia immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“Liv—”
“Don’t confront her about Edward yet.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s one more recording.”
Derek stopped.
“One more?”
Olivia nodded.
“It wasn’t made six days before his death.”
Derek stared at her.
“When?”
Olivia’s voice dropped.
“The night before.”
Derek slowly sat down again.
“What’s on it?”
Olivia looked toward Rachel Bennett.
Then back at Derek.
“Your father speaking alone.”
Derek’s throat tightened.
“To who?”
“No one.”
Olivia placed the recorder between them.
“He was recording a message.”
“For Samuel?”
Olivia shook her head.
“No.”
“Then who?”
Her answer was almost a whisper.
“You.”
Derek stared at her.
“My father left me a message?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t I get it?”
Olivia’s eyes filled with sadness.
“Because he gave instructions that you weren’t supposed to hear it until you were finally ready to believe him.”
Derek looked down at the recorder.
Three years after Edward Hale died, his son finally reached toward the message his father had been afraid to give him while he was alive.
PART 16 — “SON, IF YOU’RE HEARING THIS…”
Derek’s finger hovered over the recorder.
He couldn’t press the button.
Olivia waited.
She didn’t rush him.
Finally, Derek whispered:
“Did you listen to it?”
“Yes.”
“Everything?”
“Yes.”
“Is it bad?”
Olivia looked at him for several seconds.
“It’s honest.”
Somehow, that frightened him more.
Derek pressed play.
A faint click sounded.
Then breathing.
His father’s breathing.
Derek immediately recognized it.
Edward cleared his throat.
Then spoke.
“Son, if you’re hearing this, then something has gone wrong.”
Derek’s eyes filled instantly.
Three years disappeared.
He was no longer sitting in a café.
He was standing in his father’s garage, holding a flashlight while Edward repaired an old motorcycle.
He was twelve again.
Seventeen.
Twenty-five.
His father’s voice continued.
“I don’t know when you’ll hear this. Samuel has instructions.”
A pause.
“And you’re probably going to be angry with me.”
Derek covered his mouth.
Edward sighed on the recording.
“I should have told you the truth years ago.”
“Your mother has a problem.”
Derek closed his eyes.
“Not just with spending.”
“With boundaries.”
“With believing that loving someone gives her ownership over what belongs to them.”
Derek slowly looked at Olivia.
She said nothing.
Edward continued.
“I spent most of our marriage fixing things quietly.”
“Bills.”
“Loans.”
“Accounts.”
“Lies.”
A long pause.
Then:
“I thought I was protecting the family.”
Derek’s chest tightened.
“I wasn’t.”
“I was protecting the behavior.”
Derek lowered his head.
Those words belonged to Edward.
But they could have belonged to Derek.
“And I’m afraid I’ve taught you to do the same thing.”
Derek stopped breathing.
The recording crackled.
“Every time your mother crosses a line, you find a reason the line shouldn’t have been there.”
Olivia looked away.
Derek couldn’t.
His father’s voice continued.
“Someday you may marry someone who asks you to put up a boundary with your mother.”
“If that happens, son, listen.”
Derek’s tears finally fell.
Edward had recorded this before Derek and Olivia’s marriage began falling apart.
Before the stolen card.
Before the bedroom camera.
Before the Lexus.
And somehow he had predicted all of it.
“Don’t make your wife prove she deserves protection from your family.”
Derek shut his eyes.
Olivia remained completely still.
Then Edward said:
“There is a reason I left certain records with Olivia.”
Derek opened his eyes.
“She notices what you excuse.”
A broken laugh escaped Derek.
Even now, his father knew him.
“And if Olivia is hearing this before you are…”
Edward paused.
“I’m sorry.”
Olivia’s eyes filled.
“It means I was right to worry.”
Silence filled the recording.
For several seconds, Derek thought it had ended.
Then Edward spoke again.
His voice was quieter.
“There’s one more thing.”
Derek leaned closer.
“If anything happens to me before I leave this house, don’t decide what happened because you’re angry.”
Derek’s pulse accelerated.
“Look at evidence.”
“Ask questions.”
“And don’t accuse your mother of something you cannot prove.”
Olivia watched Derek carefully.
Edward took a slow breath.
“But don’t protect her from questions either.”
Then:
“I love you, son.”
A pause.
“I hope when you hear this, you’re finally living your own life.”
Click.
The recording ended.
Derek didn’t move.
He cried silently.
Olivia didn’t reach for him.
That hurt.
But he understood why.
After several minutes, Derek wiped his face.
“He knew.”
Olivia nodded.
“He knew what I’d become around her.”
“He knew what he taught you.”
That distinction mattered.
Derek stared at the recorder.
“Liv…”
She looked at him.
“I blamed you.”
“I know.”
“I was driving home today ready to scream at you because Mom stole your card.”
“I know.”
The shame nearly crushed him.
“I don’t deserve you.”
Olivia’s expression softened slightly.
“This isn’t about what you deserve.”
“Then what is it about?”
“Whether I can ever feel safe being your wife again.”
Derek couldn’t answer.
Olivia stood.
“I have to go.”
“Wait.”
She stopped.
“What happens tomorrow with Samuel?”
“He’ll show you the will.”
“And you?”
“I’ll be there.”
Derek nodded.
Then Olivia picked up her bag.
Before leaving, she placed one final envelope on the table.
“What is this?”
“Something your father wanted you to see after hearing the recording.”
Derek opened it.
Inside was a photograph.
Edward and Marjorie.
Taken outside their house.
Derek almost dismissed it.
Then he noticed the date printed on the back.
May 7.
The day before Edward died.
And beneath the date, Edward had written:
If she tells Derek I never tried to leave, show him this.
Derek turned the photograph over again.
Behind Edward and Marjorie stood a moving truck.
Several boxes were already loaded.
His father hadn’t merely been planning to leave.
He had started.
Derek looked toward the café door.
Olivia was gone.
Then his phone buzzed.
A message from Marjorie.
Come to my house tonight. Alone.
A second message followed.
There are things about your father Olivia doesn’t know.
Derek stared at the screen.
For the first time, he didn’t know whether his mother was preparing another lie—
or whether Edward Hale had taken secrets to his grave too.
PART 17 — MARJORIE’S VERSION
Derek almost didn’t go.
Every instinct told him Marjorie would lie.
But his father’s final message echoed in his head.
Look at evidence. Ask questions.
Don’t accuse your mother of something you cannot prove.
So at 7:12 that evening, Derek parked outside the beige Glendale house where he’d spent most of his childhood.
Marjorie opened the door before he knocked.
“You came.”
“I came to listen.”
Her expression softened.
“My boy.”
She reached for him.
Derek stepped back.
Marjorie’s hand stopped in the air.
Something flashed across her face.
Hurt.
Then anger.
Then control.
“Come inside.”
Derek entered.
The house smelled exactly as it always had.
Vanilla candles.
Furniture polish.
Coffee.
But now he noticed things he’d never questioned.
Expensive handbag on the chair.
Designer shoes beside the stairs.
A new television.
His father had supposedly left her broke.
Marjorie sat on the couch.
Derek remained standing.
“Why did Dad leave?”
Her face tightened.
“So Olivia told you.”
“Dad told me.”
Marjorie froze.
Derek watched carefully.
“There are recordings.”
For several seconds, Marjorie said nothing.
Then she whispered:
“Edward recorded me?”
“He recorded himself too.”
Her eyes narrowed.
“What did he say?”
“Enough.”
Marjorie looked away.
“Your father wasn’t a saint.”
“I never said he was.”
“He controlled every dollar.”
“Because you were opening accounts in his name?”
Her head snapped toward him.
“So that’s what Olivia has convinced you.”
“Court records convinced me.”
Marjorie’s mouth tightened.
Derek sat opposite her.
“Tell me your version.”
She seemed surprised.
Then she folded her hands.
“Your father hid money from me.”
Derek waited.
“He had an account I didn’t know existed.”
“How much?”
“Almost ninety thousand.”
Derek frowned.
That wasn’t in Olivia’s timeline.
“Where?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
“Why would he hide it?”
“Because he was planning to leave me.”
“That part is true.”
Marjorie’s eyes flashed.
“You say that like I’m supposed to accept it.”
“No. I’m saying it explains the account.”
She leaned forward.
“He was going to abandon me after thirty-seven years.”
“So you used his identity?”
“I was protecting myself.”
Derek stared at her.
The same justification.
Different victim.
“You burned his will.”
Marjorie’s face changed.
Only slightly.
But enough.
“I don’t know what Raymond told you.”
“I didn’t ask what Raymond told me.”
Silence.
“Did you burn it?”
Marjorie looked toward the kitchen.
Then finally:
“Yes.”
Derek’s stomach twisted.
“Why?”
“Because I was furious.”
“Did you read it first?”
“Yes.”
Derek leaned forward.
“What did it say?”
Marjorie’s eyes filled.
“He left me the house.”
Derek waited.
“And?”
“Some personal property.”
“And the money?”
Her jaw tightened.
“Mostly to you.”
There it was.
Derek exhaled.
“And Olivia?”
Marjorie laughed bitterly.
“Your precious Olivia got authority over a trust.”
Derek frowned.
“What trust?”
Marjorie stared at him.
“She didn’t tell you?”
Derek’s pulse changed.
“No.”
For the first time that evening, Marjorie smiled.
Not warmly.
Triumphantly.
“Interesting.”
“Tell me.”
“Your father created a trust before he died.”
“For what?”
Marjorie stood.
She walked toward a cabinet and removed an old folder.
Then she tossed it onto the coffee table.
Derek opened it.
A photocopy of a legal document.
THE EDWARD HALE FAMILY PROTECTION TRUST
Derek scanned the first page.
Beneficiary:
Derek Hale.
Successor trustee:
Olivia Hale.
His chest tightened.
“Why Olivia?”
“Because your father didn’t trust you around me.”
The words hurt because Derek already knew they were true.
“How much is in it?”
Marjorie laughed.
“You really don’t know.”
“How much?”
“Ask Olivia.”
“I’m asking you.”
Marjorie’s smile disappeared.
“Originally?”
She paused.
“About four hundred eighty thousand dollars.”
Derek stared at her.
Nearly half a million.
“Where did that money come from?”
“Your grandfather’s estate. Investments. Things Edward kept separate.”
Derek struggled to process it.
“Is it still there?”
“I don’t know.”
“You tried to access it.”
Marjorie looked away.
Derek understood.
“That’s why you needed Olivia’s email.”
No answer.
“The lawyer contacted her about the trust.”
Marjorie stood abruptly.
“She had no right controlling money that belonged to my family!”
“It belongs to me.”
“You are my family!”
There it was again.
The logic that had swallowed everything.
Derek stood too.
“You don’t own things because someone you love owns them.”
Marjorie stared at him.
For a second, Derek heard Edward’s voice coming from his own mouth.
Then Marjorie whispered:
“Your father had another reason for creating that trust.”
Derek stopped.
“What?”
“He was afraid.”
“Of you?”
Marjorie laughed.
“No.”
She walked toward a drawer.
From it, she removed an old photograph.
She handed it to Derek.
Edward stood beside a woman Derek had never seen.
They appeared to be outside Samuel Grant’s office.
On the back was a name.
Rebecca Hale.
Derek frowned.
“Who is Rebecca?”
Marjorie looked at him.
Then said:
“Your father’s daughter.”
Derek stared at her.
“My father didn’t have a daughter.”
Marjorie slowly sat down.
“Yes, Derek.”
Her voice became almost gentle.
“He did.”
Derek looked at the photograph again.
“No.”
“She was born before I met him.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Because Rebecca disappeared from his life a long time ago.”
Derek felt his heartbeat pounding.
“What does she have to do with the trust?”
Marjorie held his gaze.
“Everything.”
Then she delivered the sentence that changed the entire inheritance story.
“Because you’re not the only beneficiary.”
PART 18 — THE SISTER HE NEVER KNEW
Derek stared at the photograph.
Rebecca Hale.
His father’s daughter.
His sister.
“No.”
Marjorie leaned back.
“You wanted the truth.”
“I want proof.”
Her eyebrows lifted.
For once, Derek noticed how much that answer surprised her.
Months earlier, he would have believed her because she was his mother.
Now he needed evidence.
“Good,” Marjorie said bitterly. “Olivia has trained you well.”
“Dad trained me.”
That silenced her.
Derek turned the photograph over.
“When was this taken?”
“About four years ago.”
“Dad was seeing her?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know?”
“Eventually.”
“Why didn’t he tell me?”
“Ask Samuel.”
Derek looked at her.
“You said I’m not the only beneficiary.”
Marjorie nodded.
“Rebecca receives part of the trust.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
“You read the will.”
“The trust details weren’t all in the will.”
Derek studied her face.
For once, she might actually be telling the truth.
“What happened between Dad and Rebecca?”
Marjorie folded her arms.
“Edward was nineteen when she was born.”
Derek sat slowly.
“Her mother?”
“Carolyn Pierce. They never married.”
“Did Dad abandon them?”
Marjorie hesitated.
That hesitation mattered.
“What?”
“Edward sent money.”
“For how long?”
“Years.”
Derek felt another piece move into place.
His father had always been meticulous with money.
Perhaps some of those old payments Derek remembered weren’t debts at all.
“Did you know about Rebecca when you married Dad?”
“No.”
“When did you find out?”
“Seven years into our marriage.”
Derek stared.
“And?”
Marjorie’s jaw tightened.
“I told Edward he had a choice.”
Derek already knew what came next.
“You or his daughter.”
“I had a young child too.”
“Me.”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t ask you to make him choose.”
“You were a baby!”
“And Rebecca was his daughter.”
Marjorie stood.
“You don’t understand what our marriage was like.”
“Then explain it.”
“I was terrified he’d leave us.”
Derek looked down at the photograph.
“So you made him leave her instead.”
Marjorie said nothing.
That silence answered enough.
“Did Dad reconnect with Rebecca?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“About five years before he died.”
“And you hated it.”
“I didn’t trust her.”
“Why?”
“She wanted money.”
Derek almost smiled.
A week ago, that sentence would have worked.
Now?
“How do you know?”
Marjorie stared at him.
“I know people.”
“No. Show me.”
“What?”
“Show me the messages where Rebecca asks Dad for money.”
Marjorie’s face hardened.
“I don’t have them.”
“Emails?”
“No.”
“Letters?”
“No.”
“Then what evidence do you have?”
“I knew what she wanted!”
Derek stood.
“That’s not evidence.”
Marjorie looked genuinely stunned.
Derek suddenly understood why his father had left the recordings.
Why Olivia had built a timeline.
Why Samuel preserved documents.
For years, Marjorie’s certainty had been treated as proof.
Not anymore.
Derek put the photograph in his pocket.
“I’m taking this.”
“You can’t.”
“It belonged to Dad.”
He walked toward the door.
Behind him, Marjorie called:
“Rebecca is the reason Edward changed the will!”
Derek stopped.
“Maybe.”
“She came back and poisoned him against me.”
Derek slowly turned.
“No, Mom.”
Marjorie’s face tightened.
“Dad documented what you did himself.”
“He was angry!”
“So was Olivia.”
Derek paused.
“And somehow both of them ended up documenting you.”
Marjorie had no answer.
Derek opened the door.
Then she said:
“If you meet Rebecca, ask her where she was the night before your father died.”
Derek froze.
He looked over his shoulder.
“What?”
Marjorie stood beside the couch.
“She was in Phoenix.”
“How do you know?”
“Because Edward met her.”
Derek’s heartbeat accelerated.
“Where?”
“I don’t know.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You seem to know everything except the parts I can verify.”
Marjorie flinched.
Derek stepped outside.
“Good night, Mom.”
He drove home with Rebecca’s photograph on the passenger seat.
At 9:46 p.m., he called Samuel Grant.
“I need to ask you about Rebecca Hale.”
Samuel went quiet.
“So Marjorie told you.”
“Is Rebecca my sister?”
“Yes.”
Derek closed his eyes.
It was real.
“Is she a beneficiary of Dad’s trust?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“We’ll discuss that tomorrow.”
Derek gripped the steering wheel.
“Was Rebecca in Phoenix the night before Dad died?”
Another silence.
“Yes.”
Derek’s stomach tightened.
“Did she see him?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Samuel hesitated.
“Edward asked her to come.”
“For what?”
“To witness something.”
Derek’s pulse quickened.
“What?”
“His signature.”
“On the will?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
Samuel’s voice became careful.
“A sworn statement.”
Derek stared through the windshield.
“What statement?”
“One concerning Marjorie.”
“About the financial fraud?”
“Partly.”
Derek swallowed.
“And the rest?”
Samuel paused.
“Edward wrote down what he wanted investigated if he died before moving out.”
Derek stopped breathing.
“Rebecca witnessed it?”
“Yes.”
“Where is she now?”
“I can’t provide her information without permission.”
“Can you contact her?”
“Yes.”
Derek looked at his father’s photograph.
“Tell her I want to meet.”
“I will.”
Samuel was about to end the call when Derek asked one last question.
“Does Olivia know Rebecca exists?”
“Yes.”
Derek closed his eyes.
Another secret Olivia had carried while he defended his mother.
“When did she meet her?”
Samuel’s answer stunned him.
“Yesterday.”
Derek opened his eyes.
“Why?”
“Because Rebecca brought Olivia something Edward had given her the night before he died.”
“What?”
Samuel paused.
“A second copy of his sworn statement.”
Derek’s heartbeat hammered.
“And something else.”
“What else?”
“A voicemail Edward left Rebecca at 4:41 the morning he died.”
Derek went completely still.
His mother claimed Edward had collapsed around 4:30.
But at 4:41—
his father had still been alive.
And making phone calls.
