Chapter 5: The Envelope in My Purse
Marcus looked at me like I had become a stranger.
“Three days ago?””
I shook my head.
“I don't know what she's talking about.””
Evelyn's expression hardened.
“You do.””
“No.””
“You were there.””
“I wasn't.””
“Then why did you sign the access log?””
Marcus turned toward his mother.
“You have proof?””
Evelyn nodded.
“Robert took a photograph.””
Diane lowered the tablet.
“Wait.””
Everyone looked at her.
She walked to the security desk outside the lounge and returned with a printed sheet.
“We don't normally monitor the storage facility off-site,” she said.
“But the venue received a delivery from that facility this morning.””
Marcus stared at the page.
“What does that have to do with Vanessa?””
Diane pointed to a line.
“The driver who delivered the wedding decorations listed the storage unit as the pickup location.””
Marcus looked at me.
“You picked up decorations from Dad's storage unit?””
I shook my head.
“I didn't.””
Diane looked at the sheet.
“The booking was made under Vanessa Carter.””
My mouth went dry.
Marcus took the paper.
His eyes moved across the page.
The name was there.
*Vanessa Carter.*
A phone number.
A signature.
A pickup time.
Everything.
Except I hadn't signed it.
Someone had.
And whoever it was knew my full married name before I had even walked down the aisle.
Marcus's voice was barely audible.
“When did you become Vanessa Carter?””
I couldn't answer.
“Before today,” he said.
I looked down.
The truth was beginning to close around me.
Not because Evelyn had discovered everything.
Because someone else had been using my name.
Diane looked at me.
“Are you saying this signature isn't yours?””
“Yes.””
“Then you need to tell me who could have done it.””
“I don't know.””
Marcus laughed once.
It wasn't amusement.
It was disbelief.
“You keep saying you don't know.””
“Because I don't!””
“You don't know my uncle. You don't know the storage unit. You don't know the signature.””
“I don't.””
“You don't know why your name is on paperwork connected to my father.””
“I don't.””
“And you don't know what's in the envelope in your purse?””
I froze.
Marcus saw it.
His face fell.
“You do.””
I reached instinctively toward my purse.
Diane noticed.
“Don't.””
I stopped.
Marcus stared at the bag.
“What is in there?””
“Nothing.””
“Then open it.””
“Marcus—”
“Open it.””
My fingers trembled.
The room seemed impossibly bright.
I looked toward the ballroom.
Guests were still gathering.
People were beginning to notice something was wrong.
Phones were out.
Whispers moved through the room.
I could walk away.
I could still leave.
But if I left now, everyone would know.
So I opened my purse.
Marcus watched.
I pulled out the cream-colored envelope.
His face tightened.
“Give it to me.””
I held it against my chest.
“I can't.””
“Why?””
“Because it wasn't supposed to be opened yet.””
“When?””
I swallowed.
“After the ceremony.””
Marcus stepped closer.
“You were going to give me a letter after we got married?””
“Yes.””
“What kind of letter?””
“I can't explain.””
“Then let me read it.””
I looked at Evelyn.
She was watching me with a strange expression.
Not anger.
Not triumph.
Something worse.
Recognition.
“You already knew,” I whispered.
Evelyn said nothing.
Marcus turned toward her.
“Mom?””
Evelyn looked down.
“Robert warned me.””
“About what?””
“That there might be a letter.””
Marcus looked back at me.
“What did you write?””
I slowly handed him the envelope.
He opened it.
Inside was a single sheet.
His eyes moved across the page.
Then stopped.
His breathing changed.
I watched his face drain of color.
“What?”” I whispered.
He didn't answer.
“Marcus?””
He lifted the paper.
His voice was hollow.
“You wrote that my father was your father.””
The room tilted.
I grabbed the back of a chair.
“No.””
Marcus looked at me.
“You wrote it.””
“I didn't.””
He held up the page.
“My father's name is here.””
“I know.””
“And your mother's name.””
“I know.””
“And yours.””
I shook my head.
“Marcus, listen to me.””
“You said you were his daughter.””
“I never said that.””
“It's written right here.””
“Someone wrote it.””
His eyes hardened.
“Who?””
“I don't know.””
He stared at the paper.
Then he read the final line.
His expression changed again.
“What?””
He looked up.
“You said my father paid your mother to disappear.””
Evelyn covered her mouth.
Marcus looked at her.
“Mom?””
She whispered, “I knew he had secrets.””
“But you never told me.””
“I didn't know this.””
Marcus looked at me.
“Why would you bring this to my wedding?””
“I didn't know how else to tell you.””
“Tell me what?””
“That your father may have had another family.””
Marcus's eyes filled with disbelief.
“And you may be part of it.””
I shook my head.
“No.””
“Then why is your name in his files?””
“I don't know.””
“Why were you at the storage unit?””
“I wasn't!””
“Why did you write this?””
“I didn't!””
Marcus threw the letter onto the table.
“Then who did?””
I looked at the paper.
There was something wrong.
Something I'd missed.
The handwriting looked like mine.
But there was one letter I always wrote differently.
The capital R in my name.
This R was too sharp.
Too deliberate.
I picked up the letter.
“This isn't mine.””
Marcus stared.
“How can you tell?””
“My handwriting has a loop here.””
I pointed.
“This doesn't.””
Diane leaned over.
“She's right.””
Marcus looked at her.
Diane examined the page.
“I've seen hundreds of signatures and written statements from wedding vendors. Handwriting comparison isn't my field, but these aren't identical.””
Evelyn stepped closer.
“Turn it over.””
Marcus flipped the paper.
There was nothing.
Then Evelyn pointed to the bottom corner.
“That's your father's handwriting.””
Marcus frowned.
“What?””
“Look.””
A tiny notation had been written in pencil.
Three letters.
*R.C.*
Marcus's face changed.
“Dad's initials.””
Evelyn nodded.
“He used them on every private document.””
I felt dizzy.
“So my father wrote the note?””
“No,” Evelyn said.
“Then why are his initials on it?””
She looked at Marcus.
“Because someone wants you to think he did.””
Marcus stared at her.
“Who?””
Evelyn slowly turned toward the doorway.
Robert stood there.
He had returned.
He looked directly at me.
Then at Marcus.
Then at the letter.
“Because,” Robert said quietly, “the person who forged that letter isn't trying to expose Vanessa.””
He walked into the lounge.
“They're trying to destroy her before she discovers what your father left behind.””
Marcus's eyes narrowed.
“What did my father leave behind?””
Robert set his leather briefcase on the table.
“A second family.””
He opened it.
“And one of them is alive.””
My heart slammed against my ribs.
Robert reached inside.
Before he could remove the file, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression immediately changed.
“Who is it?”” Marcus asked.
Robert didn't answer.
He rejected the call.
The phone rang again.
Robert looked at me.
“You need to leave this wedding.””
“Why?””
“Because whoever has been following you knows you're here.””
The phone rang a third time.
This time, a message appeared.
Robert read it.
His face went pale.
Marcus stepped toward him.
“What does it say?””
Robert slowly turned the phone around.
The message contained only one sentence.
*SHE KNOWS ABOUT THE STORAGE UNIT. GET HER BEFORE SHE TALKS.*
And underneath it was a photograph.
May you like
A photograph taken inside the wedding venue.
Seconds earlier.