Chapter 4
I stared at the envelope.
Then at Emily.
Her face had lost all color.
My mother noticed.
“See?”
I didn’t take the envelope.
“What is it?”
Linda smiled.
“Ask your wife.”
“Emily?”
She sat down slowly.
Noah was asleep against her chest now.
Her eyes never left the envelope.
“I can explain.”
Those four words made my stomach twist.
Linda gave a satisfied laugh.
“Of course you can.”
I turned on her.
“Stop.”
Then I crouched in front of Emily.
“What is inside?”
She swallowed.
“Medical records.”
I frowned.
“Whose?”
“Mine.”
My mother pushed the envelope toward me.
“Read them.”
I stood.
“How did you get my wife’s medical records?”
That wiped the smile from Linda’s face.
“They were in the house.”
Emily shook her head.
“No, they weren’t.”
Linda said nothing.
Emily stared at her.
“They were in my locked email account.”
The room went silent.
I looked at my mother.
“You accessed her email?”
“I saw them printed.”
“Where?”
Linda hesitated.
Emily’s expression changed.
“My laptop.”
She looked toward the guest room.
“You took my laptop two weeks ago.”
“I borrowed it.”
“You told me Daniel needed it.”
My jaw tightened.
“I never asked for your laptop.”
Emily closed her eyes.
My mother started talking quickly.
“This is exactly why you need to read what’s in the envelope.”
“No.”
Linda blinked.
“No?”
“I’m not reading stolen medical information just because you want to humiliate my wife.”
Emily looked at me.
My mother laughed.
“You should know who you married.”
“I do.”
“Do you?”
“Yes.”
“You know she saw a psychiatrist?”
Emily flinched.
I looked at her.
She stared down at Noah.
“Yes,” she whispered.
Linda spread her hands.
“There.”
I waited.
Nothing changed.
My mother looked confused.
“Aren’t you going to ask why?”
“Emily can tell me whatever she wants to tell me.”
“She was treated for anxiety.”
I looked at my mother.
“So?”
Linda actually seemed shocked.
“So?”
“Yes. So?”
“She hid it from you.”
Emily whispered, “I didn’t hide it.”
I turned toward her.
She looked embarrassed.
“Before we started trying for Noah, I talked to a therapist because I was afraid.”
“Afraid of what?”
“Being a bad mother.”
My heart hurt.
She wiped her eyes.
“My own mother had severe postpartum depression after my younger sister. I remembered how hard it was. I was scared it could happen to me.”
“You told me that.”
“I told you about my mom. I didn’t tell you how scared I was.”
“That isn’t betrayal.”
Linda cut in.
“She was prescribed medication.”
Emily nodded.
“Yes.”
I waited again.
My mother stared at me.
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“No.”
“She could be dangerous.”
The officer immediately spoke.
“Ma’am, having anxiety or receiving mental health treatment does not mean someone is dangerous.”
Linda looked irritated.
“That isn’t what I meant.”
“It’s exactly what you meant,” Emily said.
Something in my wife had changed.
Maybe hearing her private fear used against her finally pushed her past shame.
She stood.
Still holding Noah.
Still tired.
But no longer shrinking.
“You found the one thing I was most afraid of,” she said, “and you used it to make me question myself.”
Linda rolled her eyes.
“I did not.”
“You kept saying I was unstable.”
“Because you were acting unstable.”
“You hid things.”
“I cleaned.”
“You moved Noah’s bottles.”
“I organized.”
“You took my phone.”
“You were obsessed with Daniel.”
“He is my husband.”
“You filmed me.”
“For safety.”
“You read my medical records.”
“To protect my grandson.”
Emily’s voice rose.
“From what?”
Noah stirred.
She immediately lowered her voice.
“From what, Linda?”
My mother didn’t answer.
Emily looked at me.
“She wanted me scared.”
I nodded slowly.
“I know.”
“She wanted me to think if I told anyone, they would believe her.”
“I believe you.”
Her face crumpled.
“I needed you to believe me three weeks ago.”
That hurt more than anything my mother had said.
I nodded.
“You’re right.”
Linda opened her mouth.
I held up one hand.
“No.”
Then I faced Emily fully.
“I failed you.”
She looked away.
“I should have listened.”
“You were working.”
“I should have listened anyway.”
“I know you didn’t know.”
“I didn’t know because I didn’t look.”
My throat tightened.
“I came home every night and saw you getting quieter. I let Mom explain you to me instead of asking you.”
Emily cried silently.
“I’m sorry.”
Linda muttered, “This is pathetic.”
I turned.
“Pack your things.”
My mother stared at me.
“You’re still throwing me out?”
“Yes.”
“After finding out your wife needs psychiatric help?”
Emily shut her eyes.
I walked to the front door and opened it.
“Now.”
Linda laughed in disbelief.
“You’re making the biggest mistake of your life.”
“Maybe I made it a month ago when I let you move in.”
“You begged me to help.”
I had.
That was true.
When Emily was eight months pregnant, Linda offered to stay after the birth.
I had thought it was perfect.
My father was gone.
My two older brothers lived out of state.
Linda had always complained she felt lonely.
Emily had been hesitant.
I convinced her.
“She’ll cook,” I had said.
“She’ll help with laundry.”
“You’ll get to sleep.”
Emily had finally agreed because I wanted it.
Now I understood why that memory made her look at me so sadly.
Linda walked toward the guest room.
One officer followed.
I stayed with Emily.
She sat on the couch again.
I sat beside her.
For a moment, we said nothing.
Then she whispered, “I thought you were going to leave me.”
My head snapped around.
“What?”
“She kept saying you were documenting everything.”
“What does that mean?”
“She said every time the house was messy, you noticed.”
My stomach twisted.
“She said you were building a case.”
“For what?”
“To take Noah.”
I felt physically sick.
“Emily, no.”
“I know that now.”
“No. Look at me.”
She did.
“I have never thought about taking Noah from you.”
Tears rolled down her face.
“I know.”
“I have never thought you were a bad mother.”
“I know.”
“I should have said it more.”
She gave a broken little laugh.
“You should have said a lot more.”
“Yes.”
That was fair.
Then my mother returned carrying a suitcase.
She stopped near the front door.
Her eyes moved from me to Emily.
“You think this ends because I leave?”
I stepped between them.
“It ends because we’re done.”
“No, Daniel.”
Her voice changed.
It became soft.
Almost motherly again.
The voice she used when I was a child.
“I know you’re angry. But eventually you will calm down.”
“Don’t count on it.”
“You’ll see what she’s doing.”
“What is she doing?”
“Separating you from your family.”
“You did that yourself.”
Linda’s face hardened.
Then she looked at Emily.
“You won tonight.”
Emily didn’t answer.
I did.
“This is not a competition.”
Linda smiled bitterly.
“It always is.”
The officer escorted her outside.
At the door, she turned back.
“Check the camera before you destroy your family for her.”
Then she left.
The door closed.
I locked it.
For the first time in weeks, the house was quiet.
I thought the nightmare had walked out with my mother.
I was wrong.
The officer who had taken the hidden camera apart called me over.
“Mr. Carter?”
“Yes?”
He pointed to the memory card.
“This camera wasn’t recording to the card.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
“It appears to be Wi-Fi enabled.”
Emily stood.
“What does that mean?”
“It means whoever installed it may have been watching remotely.”
I looked toward the front door.
My mother was already gone.
The officer continued.
“And there’s something else.”
He turned the device over.
“There’s no manufacturer label.”
“So?”
“It may have been modified.”
Emily’s hand covered her mouth.
I stared at the camera.
“Can you tell who was watching?”
“Not here.”
My phone rang.
We all jumped.
It was my older brother, Michael.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
“Hello?”
Michael didn’t say hello.
He sounded panicked.
“Daniel, is Mom still at your house?”
“No.”
“Where is she?”
“She left.”
He swore.
“What happened?”
“How do you know something happened?”
Silence.
“Michael?”
He exhaled.
“Mom called me twenty minutes ago.”
“What did she say?”
“She said Emily turned you against her.”
I closed my eyes.
“Of course.”
“But that’s not why I’m calling.”
Something in his voice made me look at Emily.
“What is it?”
Michael hesitated.
Then said,
“She asked if I still had access to the family cloud account.”
My blood ran cold.
“What family cloud account?”
“The one Dad set up years ago.”
I gripped the phone.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
May you like
Michael’s next words made the entire room tilt.
“Daniel, Mom has been uploading videos to it.”
