Chapter 3: His Mother’s Letter
Marcus read the sentence again.
“If you're reading this, trust what Noah tells you.””
His mother had written it in the same careful handwriting he remembered from childhood.
He turned the page over.
There was nothing else.
No explanation.
No date.
Just the sentence.
Vanessa came closer.
“Marcus, your mother wrote that before she died. She was sick.””
He didn't look at her.
“She knew you,” Vanessa continued.
“She was emotional.””
Marcus folded the note.
“You knew about this?””
“No.””
“Then how do you know what she meant?””
Vanessa hesitated.
“I don't.””
Noah sat quietly on the rug with Buddy pressed against his side.
Marcus looked at him.
“Has Vanessa ever told you not to tell me something?””
Noah stared at the floor.
Vanessa’s expression changed.
“Noah,” she said sharply.
The boy flinched.
Marcus saw it.
He saw the way Noah’s shoulders tightened.
The way Buddy lifted his head.
“Answer me,” Marcus said.
Noah whispered, “Sometimes.””
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“Sometimes what?””
Noah's eyes filled with tears.
“She says you'll be mad.””
“About what?””
“About things.””
“What things?””
Noah hesitated.
Then he reached inside his pajama pocket.
He pulled out a folded piece of paper.
Marcus opened it.
It was a drawing.
A little house.
Three people stood outside.
Noah.
Marcus.
And a tiny stick figure drawn far away from them.
At the bottom, in uneven handwriting, were four words.
DON'T MAKE DAD MAD.
Marcus felt his stomach twist.
“Who drew this?””
“Me.””
“Why?””
Noah looked at Vanessa.
“She told me my drawings were silly.””
Vanessa laughed nervously.
“He's seven.””
Marcus ignored her.
“Noah, did she ever hurt you?””
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Marcus!””
“No.””
The word was quiet.
Noah shook his head.
“She never hit me.””
Marcus nodded slowly.
“Did she scare you?””
Noah didn't answer.
That was enough.
Marcus sat beside him.
“Tell me.””
Noah whispered, “She said you'd send me away.””
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“I said that once because he was misbehaving.””
Noah shook his head.
“You said Daddy would choose you.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
He remembered Vanessa saying Noah was “difficult.””
He remembered her suggesting boarding school someday.
He remembered Noah becoming quieter over the past year.
He had blamed school.
He had blamed the divorce.
He had blamed himself.
But maybe the truth had been sitting inside his house the whole time.
Then Marcus noticed something on the phone.
A message notification.
He tapped it.
One message had been sent thirty-two minutes before the vase broke.
Unknown Number:
ARE YOU SURE HE DOESN’T KNOW?
Marcus looked at Vanessa.
“Who is this?””
She didn't answer.
He opened the message thread.
There were dozens.
Weeks of messages.
Months, maybe.
The latest one said:
HE’S GETTING SUSPICIOUS.
Another:
DO IT TONIGHT.
Marcus’s pulse began pounding.
Vanessa reached for the phone.
“Give me that.””
He pulled it away.
“No.””
“It's private.””
“Whose phone is it?””
She froze.
Marcus looked at the number again.
Then he saw a contact name at the top of the thread.
His brother’s name.
Daniel.
Marcus stared.
Daniel had been dead for three years.
Vanessa suddenly whispered, “You need to stop.””
Marcus looked at her.
“Why?””
She backed toward the kitchen.
“Because you have no idea what your mother was trying to protect you from.””
The hallway lights flickered.
Buddy suddenly stood and growled at the front door.
Three hard knocks echoed through the house.
Someone was outside.
And when Marcus opened the door, a woman in a dark coat was standing there holding a folder.
May you like
She looked directly at Vanessa.
“It's over,” she said.
