Chapter 5 - The Man Who Knew Everything
"Sabrina."
Ellis's voice came through the door.
Calm.
Controlled.
Almost gentle.
That was what terrified me the most.
Because I knew that voice.
I had spent fifteen years learning every version of it.
The charming husband.
The patient father.
The successful businessman.
The man who smiled at strangers and shook hands like everyone in the world was his friend.
But I also knew the voice he used when no one else was listening.
The voice that made me apologize even when I hadn't done anything wrong.
The voice that convinced me I was too sensitive.
Too emotional.
Too suspicious.
The voice that slowly made me doubt myself.
Rebecca moved closer to me.
"Do not open that door."
I stared at her.
"He's my husband."
Her eyes hardened.
"No."
She shook her head.
"He's the reason your son had to lie to you."
Another knock.
Three times.
Slow.
Patient.
"Sabrina, I know you're inside."
My heart dropped.
How did he know?
I hadn't called him.
I hadn't told anyone.
Then I remembered.
The deleted file.
The account alert.
The person watching.
Someone had known.
Someone had been waiting.
"How long has he known?" I whispered.
Rebecca didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
The look on her face told me enough.
Ellis hadn't just found me.
He had been tracking me.
I stepped away from the door.
"What do we do?"
Rebecca looked toward the kitchen.
"Do you have another exit?"
I shook my head.
"Only the window."
"Third floor?"
"Yes."
She closed her eyes for a moment.
Then she looked at me.
"Your son was right."
"What?"
"He chose you because he knew you would be brave."
I almost laughed.
"Brave?"
I looked at the door.
"My husband is outside my apartment, my son is hiding six million dollars from him, and a woman who was supposed to be dead is telling me my father was murdered."
My voice cracked.
"I don't feel brave."
Rebecca stepped closer.
"You don't have to feel brave to do the right thing."
The door handle moved.
Once.
My body froze.
Ellis didn't knock this time.
He tried the handle.
Locked.
"Sabrina."
His voice changed slightly.
Less patient.
More serious.
"I know Rebecca is there."
The color drained from my face.
Rebecca looked at me.
"He knows."
"How?"
She didn't answer.
Because we both knew.
Someone inside our circle was helping him.
Someone close.
Someone trusted.
Ellis spoke again.
"You don't understand what you're involved in."
I almost opened the door.
Not because I trusted him.
Because a part of me still wanted an explanation.
I wanted him to say it wasn't true.
I wanted him to laugh and tell me this was all some terrible misunderstanding.
I wanted the man I married to come back.
But then I looked at the photograph on the table.
My father.
Ellis.
Rebecca.
And I remembered Noah's message.
Don't trust Dad.
I stayed silent.
"Sabrina."
His voice became softer.
"The woman with you is dangerous."
Rebecca's expression changed.
She almost smiled.
Not because it was funny.
Because she had heard that lie before.
"He always does this," she whispered.
"Does what?"
"Turns the truth into a threat."
I looked at her.
"You mean he did this to you too?"
Rebecca nodded.
"He told everyone I was unstable."
The words hit me.
Because I knew that tactic.
When Ellis wanted someone gone, he didn't destroy them.
He changed the story.
He made people question them.
He made people stop listening.
Just like he had done to me.
The door shook.
Harder this time.
"Sabrina, please."
Please.
That word from Ellis used to make me feel loved.
Now it sounded like a warning.
Rebecca grabbed the folder.
"We need to leave."
"Through the window?"
"Yes."
I looked down.
"I can't."
"You can."
"I have a fear of heights."
Rebecca stared at me.
"Your son walked into a courtroom and let you hate him to protect you."
She handed me the folder.
"He did that at twelve."
Her voice softened.
"You can climb down three floors."
I hated that she was right.
I moved toward the window.
Then my phone vibrated.
I looked down.
A new message.
From Noah.
My hands shook.
I opened it.
"Mom, Dad is not alone."
Another message appeared.
"Someone else is with him."
I looked toward the door.
Rebecca saw my face.
"What?"
I showed her.
For the first time since she arrived, Rebecca looked afraid.
"Who?"
A third message came.
"Mom, don't trust the person who comes after Dad."
I stared at the words.
The person who comes after Dad.
Not with him.
After him.
What did that mean?
Before I could understand, the knocking stopped.
The silence was worse.
Ellis was no longer trying to get inside.
He was waiting.
Rebecca moved toward the window.
"Now."
I climbed onto the edge.
Cold air hit my face.
The fire escape was old and rusty.
I looked down.
Three floors.
My legs started shaking.
Then I thought about Noah.
Standing alone in that courtroom.
Pretending not to love me.
Pretending he didn't need me.
I grabbed the railing.
And climbed.
Rebecca followed.
We moved slowly.
Every step made the metal creak.
Halfway down, a light turned on in my apartment.
Someone had entered.
My heart stopped.
The door had never opened.
I looked up.
Rebecca froze.
"Someone else has a key."
We reached the ground.
I barely felt my feet touch the pavement.
We ran toward the alley.
A car waited at the end.
Old.
Dark blue.
Rebecca opened the passenger door.
"Get in."
I hesitated.
"Whose car is this?"
"Daniel's."
I looked around.
"Where is Daniel?"
Rebecca's face tightened.
"He was supposed to meet us."
"Supposed to?"
She didn't answer.
That was enough.
Something had happened.
We drove away from the apartment.
For ten minutes, neither of us spoke.
I watched the buildings disappear behind us.
My entire life felt like it had become a stranger's story.
The marriage I thought I had.
The husband I trusted.
The son I thought I lost.
Everything had been hiding something.
Finally, I asked:
"Where are we going?"
"Somewhere Ellis won't look."
"Does that place exist?"
Rebecca looked at me.
"Not for long."
I held the folder tighter.
"What was my father trying to expose?"
Rebecca kept her eyes on the road.
"Your father discovered Ellis wasn't working alone."
"Who was helping him?"
She didn't answer immediately.
"I don't know."
"Rebecca."
She sighed.
"I know one thing."
"What?"
"Your father's death happened three days after he confronted someone."
"Who?"
She glanced at me.
"Someone you invited into your home."
My blood ran cold.
"Who?"
Before she could answer, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I stared at it.
Rebecca immediately said:
"Don't answer."
But I did.
Because the caller ID changed.
The number wasn't unknown anymore.
It showed a name.
A name I hadn't seen in years.
A name that should have been impossible.
My hand started shaking.
"Sabrina?"
Rebecca looked at the screen.
Then her face turned pale.
"That's not possible."
I pressed the phone to my ear.
"Hello?"
A man's voice answered.
Older.
Tired.
Familiar.
"Sweetheart..."
I stopped breathing.
Because I knew that voice.
It was the voice of the man who had been buried four years ago.
My father.
Henry Walsh.
And his next words made Rebecca pull the car over.
"Your husband didn't kill me."
May you like
A pause.
"He tried."
