Chapter 7
Eddie went back to the envelope, pulled out another sheet, and gave it to him.
Dustin read it.
His face went still.
“What?” I asked.
He passed me the paper.
It was an email sent from Eddie’s business account instructing the bank to cancel his refinancing application.
Eddie pointed to the bottom.
“That didn’t come from me.”
I looked at the timestamp.
7:42 the previous evening.
“When did Marcy leave work yesterday?” Dustin asked.
“I don’t know.”
Eddie answered instead.
“She texted me at seven fourteen.”
“What did she say?”
“That she had figured out where the false invoices were being generated.”
Dustin looked up sharply.
“Did she say where?”
“No.”
My pulse quickened.
“And now she’s in the hospital.”
Nobody said what all three of us were thinking.
I handed the paper back.
“This could still be coincidence.”
“It could,” Eddie said.
“And I’m not turning coincidence into certainty.”
“Good.”
He looked relieved to hear that.
I picked up my keys.
“But I’m going to listen to my daughter.”
Dustin started toward the door.
I stopped him.
“One thing.”
He faced me.
“I don’t know yet what happened between you and Marcy. I don’t know what you said, what you meant, or what she heard. But if she’s been afraid for months and you knew it, then somewhere along the way, you failed her.”
The old Dustin might have argued.
This one didn’t.
“I know.”
That answer followed me all the way to the hospital.
Linda was waiting outside Marcy’s room.
The moment she saw Dustin behind me, her expression changed.
“Tom.”
“Marcy asked for him.”
That didn’t satisfy her, but she trusted me enough to move aside.
Our daughter sat propped against white pillows with a small bandage near her hairline. She looked pale and tired.
Still, when she saw us together, relief crossed her face.
“Good,” she whispered.
I pulled a chair beside the bed.
“No more fragments.”
She nodded.
“I know.”
Linda took the other chair.
Dustin remained near the door.
Marcy looked at him.
May you like
“You can come closer.”
He did, stopping several feet from the bed.
