Henry sat down.
“I knew about the photograph.”
My hands were shaking.
“When did you see it?”
“Before we married.”
“Where?”
“In Matthew's files.”
“And you never told me.”
“No.”
I looked away.
I was beginning to understand how many times the truth had been placed in front of me only to be hidden again.
“What happened after the photograph was taken?”
Henry took a long breath.
“Your father met Matthew's father.”
“For business?”
“Yes.”
“Then Victor was there.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“They were discussing money.”
Daniel spoke quietly.
“Not just money.”
Henry nodded.
“They were discussing the accounts.”
I stared.
“What accounts?”
“The ones Victor later used.”
I asked Henry whether my father had been involved.
He shook his head.
“Matthew didn't believe he was.”
“Then why was he there?”
“Because your father was trying to get out.”
“Out of what?”
“A deal.”
Daniel explained that years earlier, Victor's family business had been moving money through several smaller companies.
My father's company had been one of them.
But according to Matthew's notes, my father eventually discovered what was happening.
He wanted to withdraw.
Victor threatened him.
My father closed the company.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
But the accounts remained open.
And someone continued using them.
I thought about my father's final years.
His caution.
His reluctance to discuss business.
The way he became visibly tense whenever certain names appeared on television.
I had always thought those were ordinary memories.
Now they seemed like pieces of something I had never been allowed to see.
“Did Matthew know my father was trying to leave?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
“Your father contacted him.”
I stared.
“When?”
“Several months before the accident.”
That explained why Matthew had become involved.
He wasn't only investigating Victor.
He was trying to protect me from something connected to my family.
“Did my father know you?”
Henry nodded.
“He met me once.”
I looked at him sharply.
“When?”
“Before your wedding.”
My heart sank.
“You met my father before I introduced you?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He asked to speak with me.”
“About what?”
Henry hesitated.
“He asked me to protect you.”
The words echoed the promise Matthew had made.
Everyone seemed to be asking someone else to protect me.
But no one trusted me with the truth.
“What did he know?”
“He knew Victor was still using the old accounts.”
“Did he know about Matthew?”
“He was afraid Matthew had become involved.”
“And then?”
“Your father disappeared.”
I stared.
“My father died.”
“Yes.”
“That's not disappearing.”
Henry looked at me.
“He died suddenly.”
I remembered the official explanation.
Heart failure.
Unexpected.
No warning.
I had been devastated.
But I had never suspected anything else.
“Are you saying Victor killed my father too?”
“No.”
Henry's answer was immediate.
“I don't know.”
Daniel looked uncomfortable.
“There is one thing we haven't told you.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“Your father wasn't the only person trying to leave.”
“Who else?”
“Matthew's father.”
That surprised me.
I thought about the old photographs.
The family business.
The financial records.
The missing money.
Everything was connected.
But then I remembered something Matthew had written.
If something happens to me, look at the accounts.
I asked Daniel whether the accounts could show who had accessed them after my father's death.
He nodded.
“If we can obtain the complete records.”
The police eventually did.
The records showed something unexpected.
A transfer had been made from my father's old company account one day after his death.
Another transfer had been made three days before Matthew's accident.
Both went to an account controlled by Victor.
But the account had also been accessed using a second authorization.
The name attached to it was Daniel's.
I stared.
“Why was your name on this?”
Daniel went pale.
“I didn't authorize those transfers.”
“Then who did?”
“I don't know.”
Henry looked at the records.
“There may be another explanation.”
“What?”
“Someone used his identity.”
Daniel looked at him.
“That is what I said.”
The police began tracing the authorization.
The result came back the next day.
The access originated from a computer in Victor's office.
Daniel's identity had been copied.
So had my father's.
Victor had been using other people's names to move money.
But there was still no proof that he had ordered the truck attack.
Then the police found the missing driver.
Not physically.
His records.
The truck driver had died in prison several months after the accident.
Before his death, he had written a statement.
The police obtained a copy.
He claimed that Victor had paid him to frighten Matthew.
But he also wrote that Victor had warned him someone else would be present.
Someone who would make sure Matthew never reached the police.
I read that line repeatedly.
“Someone else.”
Henry looked at me.
Daniel looked away.
“Who?” I asked.
The officer said they didn't know.
Then another piece of evidence arrived.
A call record.
Victor had called a number shortly before the accident.
The number belonged to someone who had worked for my father's company.
Someone I knew.
Someone who had attended my father's funeral.
Someone who had sent flowers when Matthew died.
My uncle.
I felt numb.
“My uncle?”
The officer nodded.
“He was on the call.”
I stared at the document.
My uncle had always been kind to me.
He had helped my family after my father's death.
He had attended my wedding.
He had held my hand during Matthew's funeral.
I couldn't understand it.
Henry said quietly, “Don't assume guilt yet.”
But I heard something in his voice.
Fear.
Not surprise.
“You knew about him.”
“No.”
“Then why aren't you surprised?”
“I am.”
I looked at him.
“You're lying.”
He shook his head.
“No.”
Daniel suddenly stood.
“There is another recording.”
“What recording?”
“One Matthew left with me.”
“Why didn't you tell us?”
“Because I was afraid.”
I almost laughed.
Again.
That word.
Daniel pulled out his phone.
He had saved the recording separately.
Matthew's voice came through.
“I don't know who I can trust anymore.”
Then he said a name.
Not Victor.
Not Daniel.
Not my uncle.
He said Henry's name.
I looked at my husband.
Matthew continued.
“If anything happens, Henry knows where the evidence is.”
The recording ended.
I stared at Henry.
“Where is it?”
He didn't answer.
“Henry.”
His face was pale.
“Matthew gave me something the night before he died.”
“What?”
“A key.”
My heart stopped.
“Where is it?”
He looked at me.
“I hid it.”
“Where?”
Henry reached into his pocket.
Then he placed the small metal key on the table.
It was marked with the same number.
217.
Click Here to continue read next: PART12: The Key Matthew Trusted Henry to Hide Opened a Place Filled With Evidence, but One Document Inside Pointed Directly Toward the Final Betrayal
The Promise I Made to a Grieving Woman Followed Me Into a New Marriage, But I Never Expected the Past to Wait Behind Our Door
Part 11 of 16
