Chapter 7 - The Empty ApartmentDerek returned to a home that no longer belonged to him
Police advised Skylar not to return.
So Derek went there instead.
At 9:06 p.m., his key still worked.
He entered the apartment.
The silence was enormous.
No television.
No music.
No Skylar.
He walked through the rooms.
Everywhere he looked, there were reminders of the life he thought he owned.
The bookshelf.
The couch.
The framed wedding photo.
Everything was hers.
He went into the bedroom.
A single empty hanger swayed in the closet.
He opened the safe.
Empty.
He opened the second drawer.
Nothing.
He went into the office.
Skylar had left one thing behind.
A cardboard box.
Derek opened it.
Inside were photocopies.
Bank statements.
Insurance papers.
Screenshots.
Photographs.
His stomach dropped.
He began flipping through them.
He realized she had been documenting him.
For eighteen months.
Every suspicious transfer.
Every unexplained withdrawal.
Every financial demand from Suzanne.
Every threatening message.
Every time he said something cruel.
He dropped the papers.
“She's been planning this.”
A voice came from the doorway.
Suzanne.
“You shouldn't have come.”
Derek turned.
“How did you get in?”
She held up a key.
“The spare.”
He stared at her.
“Why do you have that?”
“You gave it to me.”
“When?”
She didn't answer.
Derek looked at the box.
“She knew.”
Suzanne's expression tightened.
“What did she know?”
“Everything.”
Suzanne walked forward.
“We still have a problem.”
Derek snapped:
“You're the problem.”
“No.”
She pointed at the box.
“You are.”
He stared at her.
“You took her information.”
“You asked me to.”
“I didn't tell you to steal her passport.”
“You wanted access to the accounts.”
“I wanted the card.”
Suzanne laughed bitterly.
“You wanted the apartment.”
Derek went silent.
She continued.
“You told me this would be easy.”
“It was supposed to be.”
“And now?”
“Now she's going to the police.”
Suzanne looked around.
“She already did.”
Derek's face hardened.
“Then we leave.”
“Where?”
“Anywhere.”
“You think they're not watching?”
He looked toward the cameras.
His eyes narrowed.
“Those cameras?”
“They were disconnected.”
Derek smiled.
“No.”
He pointed upward.
“They've been recording.”
Suzanne's face drained of color.
Then the doorbell rang.
Both froze.
Another ring.
Derek approached the door.
A police voice called from outside.
“Mr. Mercer, step away from the door.”
His breathing became ragged.
Suzanne whispered:
“What do we do?”
Derek looked toward the back balcony.
Then toward the kitchen.
Then toward the office.
He made a decision.
He grabbed the cardboard box.
Suzanne stared.
“Why?”
“Because there's something in here they can't have.”
“What?”
Derek didn't answer.
He opened a hidden compartment beneath the desk.
Inside was a black external drive.
Suzanne looked at it.
“You still have that?”
Derek nodded.
“What is it?”
He smiled.
“Insurance.”
She frowned.
“Against who?”
Derek looked directly at her.
“Everyone.”
The police knocked again.
Derek moved toward the balcony.
But before he could climb over the railing, his phone vibrated.
One message.
From an unknown number.
I know what happened to Laura.
Derek froze.
His face lost all color.
Suzanne saw it.
“Who's Laura?”
Derek didn't move.
The police forced the door.
“POLICE! HANDS WHERE WE CAN SEE THEM!”
Derek slowly dropped the box.
But his eyes remained fixed on the message.
Because Laura wasn't just a name.
May you like
Laura was the first woman who had ever disappeared from his life.
And Derek had spent six years making sure nobody asked where she went.
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