Chapter 6
Marcus showed up at seven a.m. sharp.
I heard his truck pull up.
Big, loud, diesel engine.
I looked out the window.
Black Ford F-150.
Lifted.
Mud tires.
A man got out.
Late forties.
Broad shoulders.
Long hair tied back in a ponytail.
Beard streaked with gray.
Wearing a flannel shirt and jeans.
He looked exactly like Mom’s old photos.
Just bigger.
Angrier.
I opened the front door before he could knock.
He stopped on the porch.
His eyes went soft when he saw me.
“Emma.”
“Uncle Marcus.”
He held out a hand.
Then he pulled me into a hug instead.
He smelled like sawdust and coffee and the outdoors.
Like safety.
“You look just like her,” he said into my hair. “Couldn’t be anyone else’s kid.”
Noah came running down the stairs.
“Emma? Who’s that?”
Marcus knelt down so he was eye level with Noah.
“Name’s Marcus. I’m your mom’s brother. That makes me your uncle.”
Noah stared at him.
“Mom had a brother?”
“She sure did. And I’ve got a present for you in my truck. Wanna see?”
Noah’s eyes went wide.
He looked at me.
I nodded.
“Okay!”
Noah ran outside.
Marcus stood up.
“Your dad here?”
“Still sleeping. He worked late last night.”
“Good. We need to talk before he wakes up.”
We went into the kitchen.
I made coffee.
Marcus sat at the table and looked at Mom’s letter.
He read it slowly.
When he finished, he wiped a hand across his eyes.
“I didn’t know she wrote this. She never said anything.”
“She wrote it when she was sick,” I said. “She knew she didn’t have much time.”
Marcus nodded.
“That was Sarah. Always thinking ahead. Always taking care of everyone else.”
He tapped the letter.
“So this Rebecca woman. She knows about the box. She wants the money.”
“Yes.”
“How much is in it?”
“I don’t know. Mom didn’t say. Just ‘enough.’”
Marcus thought for a minute.
“Sarah always was a saver. When we were kids, she’d hoard her allowance for months just to buy me something I wanted. If she says it’s enough… it’s probably fifty, sixty thousand. Maybe more. Life insurance money she didn’t tell your dad about.”
He leaned forward.
“Here’s the problem. If we pay Rebecca, she wins. She’ll be back. They always are. And next time, she won’t just want money. She’ll want revenge for Melissa. For the humiliation. For everything.”
“So what do we do?”
Marcus’s eyes got hard.
“We set a trap.”
Dad came downstairs twenty minutes later.
He stopped in the kitchen doorway when he saw Marcus.
For a second, I thought he was going to turn around and leave.
“Marcus.”
“Daniel.”
The air in the room got thick.
“What are you doing here?” Dad said.
“Emma called me,” Marcus said. “Said you needed help. And from what she’s told me, you need it bad.”
Dad’s face went red.
“You had no right—”
“I had every right,” Marcus stood up. He was a good six inches taller than Dad. “Sarah was my sister. Those kids are my blood. And while you were off working and trusting a psychopath with my niece and nephew, I was the one trying to warn you. But you were too stupid to listen.”
Dad clenched his fists.
“I did the best I could—”
“Your best wasn’t good enough!” Marcus’s voice boomed. “Look at them! Emma’s sixteen years old and she’s got more scars than a war vet. Noah’s six years old and he flinches if you move too fast! That’s on you, Daniel. You let that woman into their lives. You let her hurt them. And now her sister is threatening to finish the job!”
Dad deflated.
All the anger went out of him.
He sank into a chair.
“I know,” he whispered. “I know I failed them. Every day I wake up and I know it.”
Marcus stared at him for a long moment.
Then he sat back down.
“Regret doesn’t pay the bills, Daniel. And it doesn’t keep the kids safe. You want to make it right? You’re gonna listen to me. And you’re gonna do exactly what I say. No arguments. No pride. Just results. Can you do that?”
Dad looked at me.
At Noah, who was now in the living room playing with whatever Marcus had brought him.
He nodded.
“Whatever it takes.”
“Good.”
Marcus laid out the plan.
I’d go to the bank at noon.
Withdraw the money.
Marcus and Dad would follow.
We’d call Detective Alvarez.
Tell her everything.
She’d have plainclothes officers waiting at the warehouse.
We’d let Rebecca think she’d won.
Let her take the money.
Then we’d take her down.
“Wait,” I said. “What if she has a gun? What if she hurts someone?”
Marcus reached into his jacket.
He pulled out a handgun.
Dad’s eyes went wide.
“Marcus—”
“Relax. It’s legal. I have a permit in three states. And I know how to use it. I was in the Army for ten years. Did two tours. I don’t miss.”
He put the gun back.
“I’m not gonna let anything happen to you kids. Not while I’m breathing.”
At 11:45, I was sitting in Marcus’s truck outside the bank.
Dad was in his car a block away.
Detective Alvarez and four officers were in unmarked vehicles scattered around the area.
My hands were shaking so bad I could barely hold the key.
“You okay?” Marcus said.
“No.”
“Good. Fear means you’re smart. Stupid people don’t get scared. They get dead.”
He handed me a duffel bag.
“Once you get the money, put it in here. Then drive straight to the warehouse. Don’t stop for anything. Don’t talk to anyone. Just go. We’ll be right behind you.”
I nodded.
“Emma.”
I looked at him.
“Sarah would be so proud of you right now. You hear me? So proud.”
I got out of the truck.
The bank was cold.
Air conditioning too high.
The woman at the front desk smiled at me.
“Can I help you, honey?”
“I need to access safety deposit box 714.”
“Identification please.”
I handed her my driver’s permit and Mom’s death certificate.
Claire had helped me get copies of everything after Melissa was arrested.
The woman looked at the papers.
“Follow me.”
She led me to the vault.
Rows and rows of metal boxes.
She stopped at 714.
“Your key, please.”
I inserted the key.
Turned it.
She inserted hers.
Turned.
The box clicked open.
She pulled it out and handed it to me.
“I’ll give you some privacy.”
She left the room.
I sat on the small bench and opened the box.
On top was another envelope.
**To whoever opens this.**
I opened it.
*If you’re reading this, you’re either Sarah’s husband Daniel or her children Emma and Noah. If you’re anyone else—put this back and walk away. There are people who will come looking for this money. And they will find you.*
*Inside you will find:*
*- $75,000 in cash*
*- Deeds to two small properties in Portland*
*- A life insurance policy for the children, worth $250,000 each*
*- The contact information for Sarah’s lawyer, who will help you with all of it*
*Sarah loved her family more than anything. This was her way of protecting them. Please use it wisely.*
I stared at the stack of cash.
Seventy-five thousand dollars.
Mom had saved all that.
For this.
For when we needed it most.
I put the cash in the duffel bag.
I put the deeds and insurance policies in my backpack.
I closed the box and pushed it back into the wall.
Ten minutes later, I was driving toward the warehouse.
The duffel bag on the seat beside me felt heavy.
Heavy with money.
Heavy with Mom’s love.
Heavy with the weight of what came next.
The warehouse was on the edge of the industrial district.
Abandoned years ago.
Windows broken.
Graffiti on the walls.
I pulled into the parking lot.
I turned off the engine.
I checked my phone.
A text from Marcus: We’re in position. Go in slow. We’re right behind you.
I took a deep breath.
I grabbed the duffel bag.
I got out of the car.
The warehouse door was open just a crack.
I pushed it open.
Dark inside.
Dust in the air.
The smell of old oil and rot.
“Rebecca?”
Her voice came from the shadows.
“Close the door behind you. And lock it if you want your brother to live.”
My blood ran cold.
May you like
Noah.
She had Noah.
