Chapter 10
Rebecca did not let me open the flash drive.
“Not on your personal computer,” she said.
We met in her office with a forensic consultant named Daniel Price.
He copied the drive onto an isolated machine.
I sat across the room with my arms wrapped around myself.
Marissa stayed beside me.
Daniel opened the first folder.
Emails.
Hundreds.
Some between Raymond and Diane.
Some between Raymond and Michael.
Some between Raymond and Lauren.
My family’s collapse had been organized in neat digital folders.
Daniel searched my name.
Forty-three results appeared.
My stomach turned.
The earliest was ten months old.
Raymond to Michael:
Sarah’s property profile is stronger than yours. If she agrees to guarantee, Diane is safe.
Michael replied:
She won’t agree if she knows the full amount.
Raymond:
Then don’t show her the full amount.
I covered my mouth.
Rebecca printed it.
Another email.
Michael to Raymond:
Can the signature from the old Collins Construction paperwork be reused?
Raymond:
Technically, yes. Legally, not without fresh authorization.
Michael:
I’m asking if it will pass review.
My vision blurred.
There it was.
Not confusion.
Not pressure.
Not a mistake.
Intent.
Michael knew.
He asked.
Raymond warned him.
He continued anyway.
I stood suddenly.
“I need air.”
Rebecca followed me into the hallway.
I pressed both hands against the wall.
“I married him.”
“I know.”
“I slept beside him the night he wrote that.”
Rebecca stayed silent.
“I probably asked how his day was.”
My voice cracked.
“He probably kissed me goodnight.”
“Sarah.”
“I kept thinking there would be a point where I could say he was weak instead of cruel.”
She looked at me.
“You don’t have to define him today.”
“The email already did.”
I wiped my face.
Then I went back inside.
We continued.
The records showed Diane’s debt was closer to seven hundred thousand dollars.
She had borrowed against her home.
Then against an investment account.
Then privately from Raymond.
Some money had covered losses.
Some had gone toward Noah.
Some had gone toward something labeled R.C. obligations.
“What is that?” I asked.
Daniel searched.
A scanned page appeared.
Richard Collins’s handwritten ledger.
Claire had been right.
Names.
Dates.
Amounts.
One entry stopped me.
Michael — $160,000 Claire matter.
Another:
Kevin — $95,000 subcontractor shortage.
Then:
Diane — $210,000 personal withdrawal.
My head snapped up.
“Personal withdrawal?”
Daniel opened a linked scan.
It showed a bank transfer from Collins Construction to Diane three weeks before Richard’s death.
Two hundred and ten thousand dollars.
Rebecca leaned closer.
“That could explain part of the debt.”
Another line appeared.
Raymond — fee for restructuring.
Then a note in Richard’s handwriting:
No more. Accounts to be disclosed Monday.
He died Saturday night.
The room went quiet.
Marissa looked at me.
“Do you think—”
“I don’t know.”
I refused to finish the thought.
There was no proof anyone caused Richard’s heart attack.
But suddenly I understood why the ledger mattered.
It could expose years of financial misconduct.
Daniel opened another email.
Diane to Raymond, eight months ago:
Sarah will never cooperate willingly.
Raymond:
Michael says he can handle her.
Diane:
He said that about Claire.
My blood chilled.
Another.
Diane:
Lauren is useful. Keep her close.
I looked at Rebecca.
“My mother-in-law knew.”
“Yes.”
“She knew Lauren and Raymond were involved?”
“It appears so.”
I thought of Diane screaming that I was a gold digger.
She had been trying to strip equity from my home while insulting me for wanting money.
The hypocrisy made me nauseous.
Then Daniel opened an audio folder.
Only three files.
The first recording began with Raymond’s voice.
“Once Sarah signs, we use the house first. Lake parcel second if necessary.”
Michael answered.
“She won’t sign if she sees Diane’s total debt.”
Lauren said, “Then don’t involve her.”
My sister.
For one brief second, hope flickered.
Then Michael replied, “We don’t have another option.”
Lauren said, “There is always another option besides forging her name.”
Silence on the recording.
Then Diane’s voice.
“Sarah has benefited from this family long enough.”
My hands started shaking.
“What exactly did I benefit from?” I whispered.
Nobody answered.
Diane continued on the recording.
“She lives in Michael’s house.”
I laughed bitterly.
I had paid seventy percent of the down payment.
Then Raymond said, “The lake property is hers separately.”
Diane replied, “Not after she signs.”
The recording ended.
Rebecca took off her glasses.
“This is significant.”
“For the divorce?”
“For more than the divorce.”
I looked at her.
“What happens now?”
“We preserve this. We notify the bank. And I strongly recommend a report to law enforcement regarding the forged loan application and unauthorized financial activity.”
My stomach tightened.
“Against my husband.”
“Against whoever the evidence supports.”
I looked at the frozen audio screen.
Justice had sounded simple when betrayal was theoretical.
Now it meant police.
Investigators.
Possibly charges.
Emma asking where Michael went.
I closed my eyes.
Then my phone rang.
School.
My heart jumped.
I answered.
“Mrs. Collins?”
“Yes?”
“This is Principal Avery from Emma’s school.”
I stood.
“Is she okay?”
“She’s safe.”
Safe.
The word terrified me.
“What happened?”
“Your husband came to pick her up.”
My blood went cold.
“He isn’t authorized today.”
“That’s what our office record indicated.”
I grabbed my bag.
“Where is he?”
“He left.”
I stopped.
“Did he see Emma?”
There was a pause.
“Yes.”
My heart slammed.
“What did he say to her?”
The principal lowered her voice.
“Emma became very upset.”
May you like
“What did he say?”
“She says he told her you were trying to send him to jail.”
