Chapter 3 - The Name Hidden Behind The Money
A woman stood in the hallway holding an old photograph, whispering: "Who is Emma?"
When Rebecca arrived at the house, she discovered a hidden envelope inside the red folder. Inside was a handwritten note and a bank transfer record Daniel never wanted found. But one name appeared on every page: "Emma Parker." Rebecca suddenly realized Daniel's secret was much bigger than the house.
I didn't move.
The locked door behind me was still half open.
The photograph was still in my hand.
And the four words written on the back kept repeating inside my head.
Ask him about Emma.
For a moment, I convinced myself there had to be a simple explanation.
Maybe Emma was an employee.
Maybe she was a client.
Maybe it was someone connected to Daniel's business.
Because the alternative was something I wasn't ready to face.
I had spent six years believing I knew the man I married.
But every time I opened another hidden drawer, another secret appeared.
My phone was still pressed against my ear.
"Rebecca."
"I'm here."
"I need you to listen carefully."
Her voice changed.
Not the calm professional tone she had used before.
This was different.
Concerned.
"Are you alone?"
I looked toward the open door.
My apartment was quiet.
Too quiet.
"I thought I was."
"What does that mean?"
I swallowed.
"The door opened."
Silence.
"Did someone enter?"
"I don't know."
"Leave the room."
I didn't argue.
For the first time in years, I listened to someone without questioning myself.
I grabbed my keys.
I took the red folder.
And I walked outside.
I stood in the hallway of my apartment building, staring at my own door.
Waiting.
Nothing happened.
No footsteps.
No voice.
No movement.
But the feeling remained.
Someone had been close.
Someone had been watching.
Rebecca stayed on the phone.
"Did you see anyone?"
"No."
"Then we need to assume someone may have accessed your belongings."
My fingers tightened around the folder.
"The photograph was already inside."
"Tell me exactly what it says."
I read the words.
"Ask him about Emma."
Rebecca was silent.
Too silent.
"Rebecca?"
"Where did you get that photograph?"
"I told you. It was inside my folder."
"No."
Her voice became quieter.
"Where did you get the folder?"
I frowned.
"My office drawer."
"Was it locked?"
"Yes."
"Was the lock broken?"
I looked back at the apartment door.
"No."
Another silence.
Then Rebecca said something that made my stomach drop.
"Someone wanted you to find that."
I stared at the folder.
"What?"
"Think about it."
Her words came slowly.
"If someone wanted to hide evidence, they would destroy it."
I didn't answer.
"They wouldn't place it inside your personal files."
I looked at the photograph again.
"So someone is trying to tell me something."
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I don't know yet."
The next morning, Rebecca arrived at my apartment.
She was carrying a large black case.
No expensive suit.
No dramatic entrance.
Just a woman who looked like she had spent the night reading documents.
She placed the case on my table.
"I reviewed the original trust documents."
"And?"
She opened a file.
"Your aunt was more prepared than anyone realized."
I sat down.
"What did she know?"
"Not everything."
Rebecca pulled out several pages.
"But she noticed unusual activity around your inheritance before she passed away."
I looked at the papers.
Numbers.
Dates.
Transfers.
"This is Daniel's company."
"Yes."
"These are investments."
"Some are."
She turned one page.
"Some are personal withdrawals disguised as business expenses."
I studied the document.
Hotel charges.
Luxury purchases.
Private accounts.
Things Daniel had always told me were necessary for work.
"He lied."
Rebecca nodded.
"Yes."
I felt strangely calm.
That scared me more than anger.
Because anger meant I still expected something from him.
An apology.
A reason.
A moment where he finally admitted what he did.
But now?
I only wanted the truth.
"Who is Emma?"
Rebecca stopped moving.
Just for a second.
But I noticed.
"Do you know that name?"
"I've seen it before."
My heart started beating faster.
"Where?"
She opened another folder.
"Your aunt's private notes."
I leaned forward.
"What?"
Rebecca removed a single piece of paper.
It was old.
The handwriting was different.
Elegant.
Careful.
My aunt's handwriting.
I read the first line.
"Daniel is not telling the truth about the woman who helped him start the company."
I looked up.
"What woman?"
Rebecca continued.
"The note mentions someone named Emma."
I took the paper.
The words became harder to read.
"She trusted Daniel with money. She believed he would protect what belonged to her."
I looked at Rebecca.
"What does that mean?"
"It means Emma may have been connected to the beginning of Daniel's company."
I stared at the photograph.
The woman standing beside Daniel.
The woman I had never seen.
"Why didn't my aunt tell me?"
Rebecca looked at me.
"Maybe she tried."
"What?"
"Look at the date."
I checked the bottom of the page.
My hands went cold.
It was written three months before my aunt died.
The same period when Daniel had started acting differently.
The same period when he became more secretive.
The same period when he started staying late at the office.
I remembered those nights.
I remembered asking where he was.
And his answer.
"Building our future."
I almost laughed.
Because I finally understood.
He wasn't building ours.
He was hiding his.
Rebecca placed another document on the table.
"This is why the police were outside your house."
I looked up.
"What?"
"Daniel didn't call them because he wanted help."
"Then why?"
"Because he reported someone had stolen company property."
I frowned.
"What property?"
Rebecca looked at me.
"The files."
My stomach tightened.
"He thinks the files are his?"
"He believes anything connected to the company belongs to him."
I looked toward the window.
Even after everything.
Even after I left.
He still believed he owned pieces of my life.
"Can he be stopped?"
Rebecca nodded.
"If the evidence is authentic."
"It is."
"I know."
She looked at the folder.
"But there is one problem."
"What?"
"The Emma documents are incomplete."
"What do you mean?"
"The records show money moving between Daniel's company and another account."
"Whose account?"
Rebecca turned the page.
A name was written there.
I stared.
Because I recognized it.
Not from business records.
Not from documents.
From my own life.
"That can't be possible."
Rebecca looked at me.
"You know this person?"
I couldn't answer.
Because the name belonged to someone I had trusted.
Someone who had been in my home.
Someone who had comforted me when Daniel hurt me.
Someone who had told me they were on my side.
My phone suddenly vibrated.
A message appeared.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
There was only one sentence.
Stop looking for Emma.
My breathing stopped.
A second message appeared.
You don't know what your aunt discovered.
Then a photo loaded.
It was taken inside my old house.
Inside my office.
The same room where I had hidden the red folder.
The picture was recent.
Very recent.
Rebecca stood up.
"Who sent that?"
I didn't answer.
Because another message appeared.
One final line.
Emma isn't missing.
She's been waiting for you.
My phone slipped slightly in my hand.
Rebecca reached for it.
But before she touched the screen...
May you like
the front door of my apartment opened.
And a familiar voice whispered my name.
