Chapter 4: The Name at the Bottom of the Page
The photograph disappeared from my screen before I could enlarge it.
I stared at my phone, willing Marcus to call back.
He didn't.
I called him three times. Each call went straight to voicemail. On the fourth attempt, a recorded voice informed me that the number was temporarily unavailable.
My grandmother's final letter remained open on my screen.
If anything happens to me, the person responsible is—
The sentence ended where the photograph had been cropped.
I wanted to scream.
Instead, I walked back into the venue with my phone clenched in my hand and my heart beating so hard that every step felt like a warning.
Daniel spotted me first.
“Claire, where have you been?””
I held up my phone.
“Talking to Marcus.””
His expression changed.
“What did he say?””
“That my grandmother changed her will three days before she died.””
My mother made a small, strangled sound.
My father closed his eyes.
Daniel looked at them both, then back at me.
“Did he send you the letter?””
“He sent me a photograph. The last sentence was cut off.””
I stepped closer to my mother.
“Did you know Grandmother changed her will?””
She stared at the floor.
“Mom.””
“I knew she had spoken to her attorney.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
My mother finally looked at me.
“Yes,” she whispered.
“I knew.””
The words struck harder than the paint on my wedding dress.
“How long have you known?””
“Since shortly after she died.””
I felt the room grow strangely distant.
“You knew she changed her will, and you never told me?””
“Your grandmother was very ill. She wasn't thinking clearly toward the end.””
“That's convenient.””
“Claire, please.””
“No. You don't get to say please now.””
My father moved toward us.
“Your mother was trying to protect the family.””
I turned on him.
“Stop saying that! Every time someone in this family lies, you call it protection.””
He flinched.
For a moment, I saw the father who used to sit on the edge of my bed when I was a child and promise that no one would ever hurt me while he was around.
I wondered when that man had disappeared.
Or whether I had simply been too young to recognize him.
Daniel took a careful breath.
“Claire, we should let the police handle the estate questions. We still need to deal with what happened to your dress.””
I looked at him.
“Why are you so eager to move away from the letter?””
His mouth opened.
Then closed.
My stomach tightened.
“Do you know what the letter says?””
“No.””
“Do you know what she changed in her will?””
He hesitated for half a second too long.
“I know what she told me before she died.””
“And what was that?””
Daniel looked toward the hallway.
“Not here.””
I laughed bitterly.
“Of course. Never here. Never now. Always somewhere private, when you've had time to decide which parts of the truth I'm allowed to hear.””
He reached for me.
I stepped away.
“Don't.””
His hand fell to his side.
“I love you,” he said quietly.
“I know. That's what makes this so hard.””
I walked past him toward the main entrance.
Emily followed me.
“Claire, where are you going?””
“To find Marcus.””
“You can't just leave.””
I stopped beside the reception desk.
“Emily, my grandmother wrote a letter explaining why she changed her will. Someone stole it. Someone destroyed my dress. And my fiancé knew there was a secret before I did.””
My voice shook, but I kept going.
“I am not walking down that aisle until I know why.””
Emily looked at the clock.
The ceremony was scheduled for eleven.
It was now eight forty-five.
“Then I'm coming with you,” she said.
I shook my head.
“Stay here. Keep the police informed. And if Vanessa shows up, don't let her leave before I speak to her.””
Emily swallowed.
“What if she refuses?””
I looked toward the empty doorway.
“Then she can explain to the police why she thought ruining my life was worth whatever she's hiding.””
Marcus lived in a brick apartment building fifteen minutes from the venue.
I drove there alone because Emily insisted that someone needed to remain at the wedding site, and because I couldn't bear another person asking whether I was sure I wanted to do this.
The morning traffic blurred past the windshield.
My phone sat on the passenger seat.
No new messages.
No calls.
At a red light, I enlarged the photograph again.
The handwritten page looked familiar. My grandmother's letters had a distinctive slant, with the capital E almost touching the following letter.
I had seen that handwriting on birthday cards, recipe books, and the notes she used to leave beside my bed when I stayed at her house.
This was unquestionably hers.
I zoomed in on the date.
Three days before her death.
Then I noticed something in the bottom corner.
A small blue mark.
Not ink.
A stamp.
I couldn't read it from the photograph, but it resembled the seal used by the law firm that had handled my grandmother's estate.
I saved the image and continued driving.
When I reached Marcus's building, his car was parked outside.
That gave me a small measure of relief.
At least he hadn't disappeared.
I hurried upstairs and knocked on his door.
No answer.
I knocked again.
“Marcus? It's Claire.””
Something scraped inside.
Then I heard a lock turn.
The door opened several inches.
Marcus stood behind it with a swollen cheek and a cut above his eyebrow.
I froze.
“What happened to you?””
He glanced down the hallway.
“Come inside.””
The apartment was a mess.
A chair lay overturned near the kitchen. Papers covered the floor. One of the drawers had been ripped from a cabinet, its contents scattered across the carpet.
Someone had searched the place.
Thoroughly.
Marcus closed the door and locked it.
“Did you call the police?”” I asked.
“Not yet.””
“Why not?””
He laughed without humor.
“Because the last time I tried to do the right thing, I helped destroy your wedding dress.””
I stared at him.
“Tell me exactly what happened.””
He sat on the edge of the sofa and pressed a towel against his cheek.
“Vanessa called me last night. She said she needed help moving something from the venue. She told me your grandmother's letters were inside the bridal suite.””
“You helped her break in?””
“Yes.””
The honesty stunned me.
“Why?””
“Because she told me the letter could ruin my life.””
I folded my arms.
“How?””
Marcus looked down at his hands.
“Vanessa told me your grandmother had discovered that money from the estate had been transferred into an account connected to my company. She said if the letter came out, I would be blamed for the missing funds.””
“Is that true?””
“No.””
He answered so quickly that I believed him.
Then he looked at me.
“But I did something stupid. I let her convince me that destroying the letter was the only way to protect myself.””
“What did you do in the bridal suite?””
“I opened the door. Vanessa poured the paint. I tried to stop her, but she told me the dress was already ruined by the time I arrived.””
“That doesn't make sense. The recording shows you carrying the bucket.””
Marcus lowered his head.
“I know.””
For several seconds, I watched him struggle with something he didn't want to say.
Finally, he reached into his jacket and pulled out the velvet box.
The same box from the photograph.
He placed it on the coffee table and opened it.
Inside lay a folded piece of paper.
Not the letter.
A small receipt from a storage facility.
“What is this?”” I asked.
“Vanessa gave it to me last night. She said the original letter was hidden in a storage unit, and she wanted me to retrieve it after the wedding.””
“Why didn't you?””
“Because I read the note she had put inside the box.””
He handed me a second piece of paper.
Six words were written across it.
If Claire learns the truth, we're finished.
I looked up.
“Who is 'we'?””
Marcus's expression was miserable.
“I thought she meant us. Me and her.””
“You're engaged.””
“Not anymore.””
He pulled a ring from his pocket and placed it on the table.
“I ended it last night.””
I stared at the ring.
“You broke up with Vanessa the night before my wedding?””
“I told her I wouldn't help her steal anything else. She said I was choosing you over her.””
“And were you?””
He met my eyes.
“No. I was choosing not to become the kind of man who destroys another person's life to save his own.””
For the first time since I had arrived, his voice was steady.
“I should have told you everything weeks ago. I should have gone to the police when I realized what she was doing. Instead, I kept hoping I could make her stop without exposing the family.””
“Why?””
“Because I loved her.””
The words hung between us.
Then he looked at the receipt.
“And because Vanessa isn't the only person who stands to lose something if that letter comes out.””
I sat down opposite him.
“Tell me about the account connected to your company.””
Marcus took a deep breath.
“Three months ago, I was reviewing a transaction for a client. A large payment had been made from an estate holding company into a private investment account. The beneficiary was listed under a name I didn't recognize.””
“What name?””
He looked at me.
“Eleanor Ellis.””
My grandmother's name.
“But the account was opened after she died,” he continued.
“And the funds were transferred from a company that shouldn't have had access to her estate.””
“Who owned the company?””
Marcus hesitated.
Then he gave me the answer.
“Your father.””
I felt the blood drain from my face.
“No.””
“I checked the corporate records. The company was registered to him. Your mother was listed as a secondary officer.””
I stood abruptly.
“My father would never steal from his own mother.””
“Maybe not. But the money moved.””
“Then why would Vanessa say you're responsible?””
“Because she needed someone else to blame.””
I stared at the ruined apartment around us.
The broken drawer. The scattered papers. The towel stained with blood.
“Who did this to you?””
Marcus looked toward the door.
“I don't know.””
“Did Vanessa come here?””
He nodded.
“When?””
“About an hour ago. She wanted the receipt. I told her I wouldn't give it to her.””
“What happened?””
“She slapped me. Then she started throwing things around, looking for the photograph of the letter.””
My heart pounded.
“Did she find it?””
“No. I hid it before she arrived.””
He reached into his pocket and handed me his phone.
The photograph of the letter was still there.
“There's something else,” he said.
I looked at him.
“Vanessa didn't pour the paint because she wanted to ruin your wedding.””
“Then why?””
“Because she knew you'd cancel the ceremony if she destroyed the dress. She needed you away from the venue long enough to get the original letter.””
I stared at him.
The cruelty of it was almost impossible to comprehend.
She had destroyed something my grandmother had entrusted to me so she could steal the one thing that might explain what had happened to our family.
I picked up the storage receipt.
“Where is the unit?””
Marcus pointed to the number printed at the bottom.
“Outside town. About twenty minutes away.””
I slipped it into my pocket.
Then I looked at him.
“Are you coming with me?””
He stood, wincing as he touched his cheek.
“Yes.””
“Marcus, if you're lying to me—”
“I'm not.””
I held his gaze for a long moment.
Then I nodded toward the door.
“Let's go find my grandmother's letter.””
As we stepped into the hallway, Marcus's phone vibrated.
He looked at the screen and went completely still.
“What is it?”” I asked.
He turned the phone toward me.
A message from Vanessa.
If you take Claire to that storage unit, she'll find out what you did to her grandmother.
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Marcus.
“What did you do?””
He opened his mouth.
May you like
But before he could answer, another message arrived.
And this time, Marcus, I won't be the one who pays for it.
