Part 2:
My hands shook as I pulled out the contents of the envelope. Photos spilled onto the desk — dozens of them. At first I didn’t understand what I was looking at. Grainy images of my sister, Rachel, getting into Liam’s car late at night. Rachel and Liam having dinner at a restaurant two towns away. Rachel’s hand on Liam’s arm in a parking lot.
Then came the bank statements. Large transfers from our joint savings to an account I had never seen before. Payments labeled “R. Thompson – Personal.” My maiden name. My sister’s name.
The note from Liam was written in his neat, careful handwriting — the same handwriting that used to leave loving Post-its on the fridge for me and the kids.
“Em, if you’re reading this, then they finally got to me. Please don’t trust your sister. She’s been blackmailing me for almost a year. I made a terrible mistake one night when I was drunk after that work trip. She recorded it and threatened to destroy our family if I didn’t pay. I was trying to fix it. I was going to tell you everything. The car… it wasn’t an accident. Be careful. Protect the kids. I love you.”
Tears I thought had dried up came flooding back. I dropped the papers and covered my mouth to stop myself from screaming.
His boss stood awkwardly by the door. “I only opened it because the police were asking questions about the crash. Liam told me a few weeks ago that if anything happened to him, I should give this to you immediately. I’m so sorry, Emily.”
