Chapter 8: The Second Dress
I returned to the boutique alone.
I told Mark I needed answers.
For once, he didn’t argue.
Maybe because he knew I was right.
Maybe because he was afraid of what we would find.
When I entered the boutique, Olivia ran toward me.
“You shouldn’t be here alone.””
“I need to see it.””
She looked toward the back room.
“It’s there.””
The second dress waited inside.
Covered.
Protected.
Almost like it was something sacred.
I slowly pulled back the fabric.
And froze.
It was identical to mine.
Same designer.
Same shape.
Same details.
Same impossible beauty.
But there was one difference.
This dress had no ink stain.
Instead, hidden inside the lining, someone had sewn a small envelope.
I looked at Olivia.
“She wanted me to find this.””
Olivia nodded.
“I think so.””
I opened it.
Inside was a letter.
Not a note.
A real letter.
Handwritten.
*Emma,*
*If you are reading this, then my warning reached you too late.*
My breathing slowed.
*Your wedding was never the target. Your marriage was never the target.*
*The person who wanted your life destroyed is someone who has been watching your family for years.*
I looked at Olivia.
She read my face.
“What?””
I continued.
*Your mother didn’t act alone. Your sister didn’t act alone. Your father didn’t know everything. There is one person who benefited from every secret.*
My hands shook.
The letter continued.
*The person who destroyed your family is the same person who destroyed mine.*
Then the final line.
*Ask Mark why his father disappeared.*
I stopped breathing.
“What?””
Olivia looked confused.
“Mark’s father?””
I folded the letter.
“No.””
She looked at me.
“Emma?””
“No.””
Because suddenly everything made sense.
The photos.
The documents.
The hidden messages.
The person who benefited.
I called Mark.
He answered immediately.
“Emma?””
“Where are you?””
“At the venue.””
“Leave.””
Silence.
“What?””
“Leave now.””
“Why?””
“Because I found something.””
“What?””
I looked at the second dress.
“Your father.””
Another silence.
Then his voice changed.
“What about him?””
I closed my eyes.
“Why did he disappear?””
The silence that followed was different.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
“Who told you?””
My heart dropped.
“Mark.””
“Emma…”
“No.””
I whispered.
“You knew.””
He didn’t answer.
That was enough.
I ended the call.
Minutes later, he arrived.
His face looked broken.
Not guilty.
Broken.
“I was going to tell you.””
I shook my head.
“Everyone says that.””
He stopped.
“Emma.””
“Tell me the truth.””
He sat down.
“My father didn’t disappear.””
I waited.
“He was forced out.””
“By who?””
Mark looked at the second dress.
Then at me.
“Your mother.””
I felt dizzy.
“No.””
“She knew my father had evidence against her.””
“What evidence?””
“My father was the accountant for your mother’s company.””
I stared.
“He helped her hide money?””
Mark shook his head.
“No.””
His voice became quieter.
“He found out she was stealing.””
The room went silent.
“Your mother destroyed my father’s reputation.””
I whispered:
“Why?””
“Because he was going to expose her.””
I looked at the dress.
The note.
The years of lies.
Everything connected.
Then Mark said the one thing I wasn’t prepared for.
“But there’s something else.””
“What?””
“My father didn’t disappear alone.””
My heart raced.
“What do you mean?””
“He had someone helping him.””
“Who?””
May you like
Mark looked at me.
“Natalie.””