CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER FIVE
Nathan's Lie
The second gunshot echoed through the parking garage.
Willa ducked instinctively.
Daniel Cross pulled her wheelchair behind the concrete pillar and crouched beside her.
For several seconds, neither of them moved.
The garage was silent again.
Too silent.
Willa could hear her own breathing.
She could hear the distant hum of an engine.
And beneath everything else, she could hear the words that had been spoken through her phone.
Don't go home.
Her mother's voice.
Or someone else's.
She no longer knew what to believe.
Daniel looked at her.
“Did you recognize the voice?”
“Yes.”
“Are you sure?”
Willa nodded.
“It was my mother.”
Daniel looked away.
“That isn't possible.”
“Everyone keeps saying that.”
“Because your mother has been dead for fourteen years.”
“She wasn't.”
Daniel's eyes met hers.
“Maybe.”
Willa stared.
“What do you mean, maybe?”
Before he could answer, headlights swept across the far end of the garage.
Daniel grabbed the handles of the wheelchair.
“We're leaving.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere Nathan can't find us.”
Willa stopped him.
“No.”
Daniel frowned.
“What?”
“I need my husband.”
“That's the one person you shouldn't trust.”
“You don't know him.”
“I know enough.”
“He saved me tonight.”
“Maybe.”
Willa looked at him sharply.
“Why does everyone say maybe?”
“Because Nathan has spent eleven years making sure nobody knows the truth.”
Willa's stomach tightened.
“Eleven years.”
Daniel nodded.
“That's how long I've known him.”
“Tell me everything.”
“I will.”
“Now.”
Daniel looked toward the entrance.
“Not here.”
“Then where?”
“My house.”
“Where is it?”
“Forty minutes north.”
Willa hesitated.
Then her phone rang.
Nathan.
She stared at the screen.
Daniel whispered:
“Don't answer.”
Willa did.
“Nathan?”
His voice was breathless.
“Where are you?”
“The garage.”
“I know.”
Willa's heart dropped.
“How?”
“Because I tracked your phone.”
“You tracked me?”
“I was trying to find you.”
“Why?”
“Because Adrian is missing.”
“What happened?”
“I don't know.”
“You said you were going to the police.”
“I did.”
“And?”
“They found his car.”
Willa looked at Daniel.
“What about Adrian?”
“He's gone.”
“Is he alive?”
“I don't know.”
Willa closed her eyes.
“Nathan.”
“Yes?”
“Did you know my mother was alive?”
Silence.
Willa waited.
“Nathan.”
“Yes.”
The answer was quiet.
But unmistakable.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“How long?”
“Since 2015.”
Willa's chest tightened.
“You lied to me.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother asked me to.”
“No.”
“Willa—”
“You don't get to use her anymore.”
“I know.”
“Did she contact you after 2015?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Several times.”
“How many?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“More than ten.”
Willa stared into the darkness.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because every time she contacted me, she told me the same thing.”
“What?”
“Keep Willa away from the Rowes.”
Willa laughed bitterly.
“You married me.”
“I know.”
“You became part of the Rowe family.”
“I know.”
“You knew my mother was alive.”
“Yes.”
“And you watched me grieve her.”
“I did.”
“You let me believe she abandoned me.”
Nathan's voice broke.
“She didn't.”
“But you did.”
Silence.
Willa wiped her eyes.
“Where is she?”
“I don't know.”
“Do you know where she was?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Several places.”
“Tell me.”
Nathan hesitated.
“Boston.”
“Daniel told me.”
“Then you know.”
“He also said you followed her.”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“To protect her.”
“That's what everyone says.”
“Because it's true.”
“Then why did Daniel say she was hiding from you?”
Nathan didn't answer.
Willa's voice became colder.
“Was she afraid of you?”
“No.”
“Did you ever threaten her?”
“No.”
“Did you hurt her?”
“No.”
“Then tell me why she hid.”
“I can't.”
“You mean you won't.”
Nathan was silent.
Willa looked at Daniel.
He was watching her carefully.
She turned back to the phone.
“Where are you?”
“At the hospital.”
“Don't come looking for me.”
“Willa—”
“I don't trust you.”
The silence that followed was devastating.
Nathan finally said:
“I understand.”
She ended the call.
Daniel looked at her.
“You shouldn't have answered.”
“I needed to hear him lie.”
Daniel frowned.
“And?”
“He didn't.”
Daniel studied her.
Willa looked down at her phone.
“That scares me more.”
They reached Daniel's house shortly before dawn.
It was an old stone cottage surrounded by trees.
No security cameras.
No gate.
No obvious connection to the Rowe family.
Daniel unlocked the door.
Inside, the house smelled of dust, cedar and old paper.
Willa looked around.
“You live here alone?”
“Yes.”
“Does anyone know this place?”
“My doctor.”
“Anyone else?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Daniel helped her out of the wheelchair and onto a sofa.
“You should be in a hospital.”
“I know.”
“Then why aren't you?”
“Because someone keeps getting into my hospital room.”
Daniel nodded.
“That is a problem.”
Willa looked at him.
“You said you would tell me everything.”
“I will.”
He walked toward a bookshelf.
He pulled out a black binder.
Then another.
Then another.
He placed them on the table.
“These belonged to Miriam.”
Willa stared.
“How did you get them?”
“She gave them to me.”
“When?”
“Before she disappeared.”
Willa's heart tightened.
“She disappeared?”
“Yes.”
“You said she died.”
“I said she was believed to be dead.”
Willa stared at him.
“How many people in my family are actually dead?”
Daniel gave her a sad smile.
“Not as many as you think.”
He opened the first binder.
Inside were photographs.
Receipts.
Hotel records.
Bank statements.
Letters.
Willa began sorting through them.
The first page contained a photograph of her mother.
The date was 2012.
The next was 2013.
Then 2014.
Then 2015.
Four years.
Her mother had been alive through all of them.
Willa touched the photographs.
“She was here.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Boston.”
“Who was she with?”
Daniel turned a page.
A man's name appeared.
Nathan Rowe.
Willa froze.
“You said he followed her.”
“He did.”
“Everywhere?”
“Not everywhere.”
“Then where?”
Daniel pointed to the records.
“Hotels.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother needed money.”
Willa frowned.
“My mother had money.”
“Not then.”
“Why?”
“Because she gave it away.”
“To whom?”
“People she believed were in danger.”
Willa turned another page.
There were names.
Families.
Witnesses.
Lawyers.
Accountants.
People who had worked for Rowe Development.
Several had disappeared.
One had been found dead.
Another had fled the country.
Willa looked at Daniel.
“What was my mother doing?”
“Building a case.”
“Against the Rowes?”
“Yes.”
“For what?”
“Fraud.”
“Only fraud?”
Daniel sighed.
“Murder.”
Willa looked at the photographs again.
“Who was she investigating?”
“Calder.”
“But he was dead.”
“Officially.”
“Where was he?”
“Europe.”
Willa frowned.
“Why would my mother investigate him if she knew he was alive?”
“Because she believed he was responsible for more than one death.”
“How many?”
“Seven.”
Willa's stomach turned.
“Who?”
“People who knew about the original trust.”
“And my mother?”
“She was the last one.”
Willa closed the binder.
“Then why did she disappear?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Because she realized someone was using Nathan.”
Willa stared.
“Using him for what?”
“To get to her.”
“Who?”
“We never found out.”
“Then why blame Nathan?”
“I don't blame him.”
“You said he followed her.”
“Yes.”
“Then what did he do?”
Daniel's expression softened.
“He protected her.”
Willa shook her head.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It does.”
“How?”
“Because your mother was being watched.”
“By whom?”
“Someone inside the Rowe organization.”
“Celeste?”
“No.”
“Adrian?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Daniel looked at her.
“Someone Nathan couldn't expose without putting himself and your mother in danger.”
Willa's voice dropped.
“What secret?”
Daniel closed the binder.
“That is the question.”
The sun came up.
Willa hadn't slept.
Daniel made coffee.
She couldn't drink it.
Her mind kept returning to Nathan.
The way he had answered.
Yes.
Since 2015.
The way he had admitted following her mother.
The way he had said he wasn't the person who killed anyone.
She remembered something else.
He hadn't denied being involved.
He had only denied killing.
That distinction terrified her.
At 8:14 a.m., Daniel received a call.
He listened.
Then looked at Willa.
“What?”
He hung up.
“The police found Adrian.”
“Alive?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Two miles from the hospital.”
“Is he hurt?”
“Badly.”
“Can I see him?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because he asked for you.”
Willa stood.
“What did he say?”
“He said there's something you need to know.”
“Take me.”
Adrian was in a private hospital room.
His face was bruised.
His left arm was in a sling.
There was dried blood near his hairline.
When he saw Willa, he tried to sit up.
“Don't.”
She pulled a chair closer.
“Who shot you?”
“I don't know.”
“You're lying.”
Adrian looked away.
“Who?”
“A man.”
“What man?”
“I didn't see his face.”
“Why did he shoot you?”
“Because I tried to help you.”
Willa stared.
“Help me how?”
“Your mother.”
Her heart stopped.
“What about her?”
Adrian lowered his voice.
“She asked me to protect you.”
“When?”
“Years ago.”
“Why?”
“Because Nathan couldn't.”
Willa froze.
“What does that mean?”
Adrian looked at the door.
“Did he tell you about Boston?”
“Yes.”
“Did he tell you about the house?”
“No.”
“What house?”
“The house where your mother lived.”
“Where is it?”
“Sold.”
“To whom?”
“Your husband.”
Willa went still.
“Nathan bought my mother's house?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“2016.”
“Why?”
Adrian looked at her.
“To hide it.”
“What was inside?”
“Everything.”
Willa's pulse raced.
“Where is the house now?”
“Still there.”
“What?”
“It was never demolished.”
“Then why does the property record say it was?”
“Because Nathan changed the ownership.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother left something there.”
“What?”
Adrian swallowed.
“A letter.”
“From whom?”
“Her.”
“To whom?”
“To Nathan.”
Willa stared.
“Where is it?”
Adrian looked at her.
“Your husband has it.”
Nathan returned to Daniel's house two hours later.
Willa refused to see him.
He waited outside.
For nearly an hour.
Finally, Daniel opened the door.
Nathan stood on the porch.
He looked exhausted.
“I need to talk to her.”
“No.”
“She needs to hear this.”
“She doesn't trust you.”
“I know.”
“Then leave.”
Nathan looked past him.
“Please.”
Daniel studied him.
“What happened in 2015?”
Nathan looked away.
“You know.”
“I want you to say it.”
Nathan was silent.
“Say it.”
“I found her.”
“Willa's mother?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Boston.”
“Did you follow her?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because someone else was following her.”
“Who?”
“I don't know.”
Daniel's eyes narrowed.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“Who?”
Nathan's face tightened.
“Calder.”
Daniel froze.
“Calder was alive.”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't you tell anyone?”
“Because he threatened Willa.”
“How?”
“He had photographs.”
“Of what?”
Nathan looked toward the house.
“Of her.”
“Willa?”
“Yes.”
“Doing what?”
“Nothing.”
Nathan's voice became quieter.
“Just existing.”
Daniel didn't understand.
“What did he want?”
“Her.”
“Why?”
“Because she was the beneficiary.”
Daniel's face changed.
“The amendment.”
Nathan nodded.
“He knew about it.”
“And Willa?”
“She didn't.”
“Your mother-in-law?”
“She knew.”
“Then why didn't she tell Willa?”
“Because she was afraid.”
“Of Calder?”
Nathan shook his head.
“Of me.”
Daniel stared.
“Why?”
Nathan closed his eyes.
“Because I was the only person who could get close enough to Willa.”
Daniel's face hardened.
“You used her.”
“No.”
“You married her.”
“Yes.”
“You knew her mother was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the inheritance.”
“Yes.”
“And you expect me to believe you didn't use her?”
Nathan looked broken.
“I loved her.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“No.”
Nathan looked down.
“It isn't.”
That night, Willa finally agreed to speak with Nathan.
They sat across from each other in Daniel's study.
No touching.
No excuses.
No promises.
Willa placed a photograph on the table.
“My mother.”
Nathan nodded.
“Where did you find it?”
“Daniel.”
Nathan sighed.
“Of course.”
“You followed her.”
“Yes.”
“You bought her house.”
“Yes.”
“You knew she was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You lied to me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Nathan looked at her.
“Because she asked me to.”
Willa shook her head.
“That isn't enough.”
“No.”
“Then tell me the real reason.”
Nathan stared at the table.
“She knew someone inside the Rowe family was planning to kill you.”
“So you married me.”
“Yes.”
“To protect me?”
“Yes.”
“But you also knew about the trust.”
“Yes.”
“And you wanted to know where the amendment was.”
“No.”
“Don't lie.”
“I didn't need the amendment.”
“Then what did you need?”
Nathan looked at her.
“Your mother.”
Willa froze.
“What?”
“She had evidence.”
“Against who?”
“Against my father.”
Willa's eyes widened.
“Your father?”
Nathan nodded.
“He was the one behind the missing years.”
“Why?”
“Because he wanted the amendment destroyed.”
“Why?”
“Because if you inherited the shares, he would lose everything.”
Willa stared.
“Your father is still alive.”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
Nathan didn't answer.
“Where is he?”
“I don't know.”
She laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
Nathan reached into his coat.
He placed a small key on the table.
Willa stared.
“What is that?”
“The key to your mother's house.”
Her heart began pounding.
“Why give it to me now?”
“Because I'm done keeping things from you.”
Willa picked it up.
“What's inside?”
“A room.”
“What room?”
“A room your mother built behind the library.”
“What is in it?”
Nathan looked at her.
“Her records.”
“About what?”
“Everything.”
Willa stood.
“Let's go.”
Nathan shook his head.
“Not tonight.”
“Why?”
“Because the house isn't safe.”
“Then when?”
“Tomorrow.”
Willa narrowed her eyes.
“You're coming with me.”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel.”
Nathan nodded.
“Fine.”
Willa turned away.
Then she saw something beneath Nathan's coat.
A corner of paper.
She reached for it.
Nathan stopped her.
“What is that?”
“Nothing.”
“Give it to me.”
“Willa.”
“Give it to me.”
Nathan hesitated.
She pulled the paper free.
It was old.
Folded.
Yellowed around the edges.
She unfolded it.
The handwriting was Nathan's.
She recognized it immediately.
At the top was a date.
October 17, 2015.
Her heart began pounding.
She read the first line.
Miriam,
Then the next.
I found her.
Willa looked up.
Nathan had gone pale.
She kept reading.
She's alive, but she won't come home.
Her fingers trembled.
The next line was worse.
She believes I betrayed her.
Willa looked at Nathan.
“What is this?”
He said nothing.
She continued.
I did what you asked.
I married Willa.
Willa stopped breathing.
Nathan closed his eyes.
The room became silent.
She looked at the next line.
But I don't know how much longer I can keep pretending that the marriage was part of the plan.
Willa's eyes filled with tears.
She turned the page.
There was one final sentence.
If Willa ever finds out why I married her, she will never forgive me.
Willa slowly lowered the letter.
She couldn't speak.
Nathan whispered:
“Willa.”
She looked at him.
“Was our marriage planned?”
“No.”
“Then why did you write that?”
“Because Miriam asked me to get close to you.”
The words cut through her.
“How close?”
Nathan looked devastated.
“Close enough to protect you.”
“And close enough to find the amendment.”
“No.”
“You wrote it.”
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“That if I didn't do what Miriam asked, your mother would die.”
Willa stared at him.
“My mother was alive.”
“Yes.”
“And Miriam told you to marry me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Nathan's eyes filled with tears.
“Because she knew the person coming for you was already inside your life.”
Willa whispered:
“Who?”
Nathan looked toward the window.
“My father.”
Willa's face went pale.
“Your father?”
“He knew about you before I did.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother had discovered the truth about him.”
“What truth?”
Nathan looked at her.
“He wasn't just Calder's son.”
Willa waited.
“He was the man who ordered your mother's disappearance.”
Silence.
Willa looked down at the letter again.
Eleven years.
Eleven years of lies.
Eleven years of a marriage that might have begun as a mission.
And yet she remembered every moment Nathan had held her.
Every time he had stayed awake when she was sick.
Every time he had kissed her forehead before leaving for work.
Every time he had told her he loved her.
She didn't know which memories were real anymore.
Nathan stood.
“I know what the letter looks like.”
“Looks like?”
“It looks like I used you.”
“You did.”
He flinched.
“Yes.”
“You married me because someone asked you to.”
“Yes.”
“You knew my mother was alive.”
“Yes.”
“You knew about the inheritance.”
“Yes.”
“And you never told me.”
“No.”
Willa's voice broke.
“Then what part of our marriage was real?”
Nathan didn't answer immediately.
When he finally did, his voice was barely audible.
“All of it.”
She looked at him.
“That is the one thing I can't prove.”
He walked toward the door.
Before leaving, he stopped.
“There is one thing I never lied about.”
“What?”
Nathan looked back.
“I didn't know I would love you.”
Then he left.
Willa remained alone in the study.
She stared at the letter.
At the handwriting.
At the date.
At the sentence that had destroyed everything she thought she knew.
Then she noticed something written beneath the signature.
A line she hadn't seen before.
It was not Nathan's handwriting.
It was her mother's.
Three words.
He saved you.
Willa touched the paper.
Her eyes filled with tears.
May you like
And for the first time, she wondered whether Nathan's greatest lie had not been that he loved her.
Maybe his greatest lie was that he had ever been her enemy.
