Chapter 2 - By midnight, the birthday party had become a crime scene.The cake sat untouched.
The broken unicorn cup had been bagged.
The lemonade pitcher was gone.
So was Rachel.
I called her twelve times.
She didn’t answer.
At the hospital, Emma slept beneath a thin white blanket while machines quietly measured every breath.
I sat beside her bed.
Mark stayed in the hallway with the detectives.
I could hear his voice through the partially closed door.
“No.”
A pause.
“I told you, I don't know how it got there.”
Another pause.
“You're asking the wrong question.”
I stood.
The door opened.
One of the detectives, a woman named Olivia Hayes, looked at me.
“Mrs. Carter, we need to ask you a few questions.”
“Where is my sister?”
“Your sister left the house before the officers arrived.”
“She made the lemonade.”
“We know.”
“Then why isn't she here?”
Detective Hayes exchanged a look with her partner.
“Because she claims your husband was involved.”
My chest tightened.
“Involved in what?”
“She says Mark handled the pitcher.”
Mark stepped forward.
“That’s a lie.”
Rachel’s statement was taken over the phone.
She said she had made the lemonade.
She said Mark had been beside her.
She said he had opened a cabinet above the sink.
She said he had taken something out.
Mark denied all of it.
Then Detective Hayes asked me something that made my skin crawl.
“Do you know about your husband’s financial situation?”
I laughed nervously.
“Our finances are fine.”
She opened a folder.
“Are you sure?”
Inside were bank statements.
Credit card charges.
Loans.
Cash advances.
Online gambling transactions.
My name appeared on several joint accounts.
“So he’s been gambling?”
“Yes.”
“For how long?”
“I don't know.”
Detective Hayes slid another page toward me.
“You have approximately three hundred thousand dollars missing from your savings over the last eleven months.”
I stared at the number.
$300,000.
“No.”
She pointed to several wire transfers.
“Money moved out in increments. Five thousand. Ten thousand. Twenty thousand. Some were sent to accounts belonging to third parties.”
I looked at Mark.
His eyes were closed.
“How did we lose that much?”
He said nothing.
I felt a cold pressure building behind my ribs.
“You took our money?”
Mark finally spoke.
“I was going to put it back.”
“When?”
“I had a plan.”
“What plan?”
He looked at the floor.
“I was in debt.”
“How much?”
He remained silent.
Detective Hayes answered for him.
“Far more than three hundred thousand dollars.”
I felt like I was falling through the hospital floor.
Then Emma stirred.
Her fingers moved.
I rushed to her.
“Baby?”
Her eyelids fluttered.
She whispered something.
I leaned close.
“What?”
Her eyes opened only slightly.
“Mommy…”
“I’m here.”
She swallowed.
“Uncle Mark…”
I froze.
Mark stepped closer.
“What about Uncle Mark?”
Emma’s face tightened.
“He said…”
“What did he say?”
She began crying.
“Don’t tell Mommy.”
My heart stopped.
Mark backed away.
The monitor beeped faster.
Doctor.
Nurse.
Everyone rushed in.
Detective Hayes pulled me into the hallway.
“You need to listen carefully,” she whispered.
“What?”
“Your daughter may have overheard something before she collapsed.”
“What kind of something?”
The detective looked toward the hospital room.
“Something involving your husband.”
I turned.
Mark was standing beside Emma’s bed.
He was crying.
But Emma was looking at him.
And even through the glass, I could see the fear in her eyes.
Three hours later, Detective Hayes returned.
This time she had a photograph.
A photograph of Mark.
Standing outside a warehouse.
With a man I had never seen before.
May you like
And beneath the image was a timestamp.
Two nights before Emma’s birthday.
Related Stories
