I stared at him.
“How do you check something like that?”
“The same way Valerie does anything,” he said. “Sloppily.”
That was the first time I liked him.
The week before the wedding, Valerie called me seventeen times.
I didn’t answer.
Then she texted.
You are hurting your father.
I blocked her.
She emailed.
Your mother would be ashamed of how cruel you’re being.
Grandma printed it.
Evidence.
Then came the message that changed everything.
It arrived from an unknown number.
You think Eleanor is protecting you? Ask her what Sarah found in the basement.
I showed Grandma.
For the first time since this began, she looked genuinely confused.
“The basement?” I asked.
Grandma’s house had a basement full of canned peaches, Christmas ornaments, and Grandpa’s old tools.
But our house had one too.
A finished basement Dad used as an office.
“Did Mom find something?” I asked.
Grandma shook her head slowly.
“She never told me.”
Adrian arranged for us to enter the house with a court order two days later.
Dad was not there.
Valerie was.
She opened the door wearing a silk robe, her hair perfectly curled, like we had interrupted a magazine shoot.
Behind us stood Adrian, two officers, and a locksmith.