“Get upstairs, Lily,” David said softly.
“But Daddy—”
“Now.”
Lily hesitated, then nodded and ran to her room.
The moment she disappeared, David turned toward Vanessa.
“What does she mean?”
Vanessa laughed nervously.
“She’s six years old. She makes things up.”
“No.”
David took a step forward.
“Lily doesn’t lie.”
For a second, Vanessa’s face hardened.
Then she smiled.
“You’re really going to believe a child over your wife?”
David stared at her.
Because he suddenly remembered something.
Three years ago, the police had ruled his first wife’s death an accident.
A car crash.
Case closed.
But there had always been unanswered questions.
Questions Vanessa had discouraged him from asking.
His phone suddenly vibrated.
Unknown number.
David answered.
“Hello?”
A man’s voice spoke.
“You don’t know me. But check your daughter’s backpack.”
The call ended.
David’s heart raced.
He ran upstairs.
“Lily!”
She looked up from her bed.
“Daddy?”
He opened her backpack.
Inside was a small flash drive.
His hands trembled.
“What is this?”
Lily swallowed hard.
“The man at Mommy’s grave gave it to me.”
David froze.
“What man?”
“He said if anything happened to him, I should give it to you.”
Minutes later, David plugged the flash drive into his laptop.
A video appeared.
Security footage.
Date: three years ago.
David stopped breathing.
The screen showed Vanessa arguing with his first wife in a parking garage just hours before the crash.
Then Vanessa handed money to a mechanic.
A lot of money.
The mechanic looked terrified.
The footage ended.
But one final audio recording remained.
David pressed play.
The mechanic’s voice echoed through the room.
“If anything happens to me… Vanessa paid me to tamper with the brakes.”
David felt sick.
Behind him, the bedroom door creaked open.
Vanessa stood there.
Pale.
Silent.
And in her trembling hand was a gun.
“David,” she whispered.
“You were never supposed to see that.”
