Chapter 6: The Person Beside Me
The message stayed on my screen for almost a full minute.
*Don’t trust the person sitting beside you.*
I read it once.
Then again.
Then a third time.
My first instinct was anger.
Not fear.
Anger.
Because whoever was sending these messages knew exactly how to hurt me.
They knew when to appear.
They knew what information to reveal.
And they knew exactly where to place doubt.
I slowly lowered my phone.
Amy was standing beside me.
The person beside me.
The person I had spent the last year protecting.
The person who had been sitting alone in a kitchen while my mother humiliated her.
The person who had shown me the evidence that exposed my mother.
And yet one sentence from an unknown number had made a tiny crack appear in my mind.
I hated that.
I hated that someone could make me question the woman I loved.
“Connor?””
Amy looked at me.
“What’s wrong?””
I locked my phone.
“Nothing.””
The lie came out automatically.
And I regretted it the second I said it.
Because I had spent months not telling Amy things.
Now I was doing the same thing.
She noticed.
She always noticed.
“Connor.””
Her voice was quiet.
“Please don’t start hiding things from me too.””
That sentence stopped me.
I looked at her.
She wasn’t accusing me.
She was asking me.
A person who had been hurt too many times asking me not to become another person who hurt her.
I took a breath.
I showed her the message.
She read it.
Her face changed.
Not guilt.
Not panic.
Confusion.
“That’s impossible.””
“What is?””
“I don’t know.””
She looked at the screen again.
“But whoever sent this wants you to doubt someone.””
I watched her carefully.
“And you think that’s not you?””
Her eyes filled with hurt.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then she nodded slowly.
“I understand why you asked.””
That hurt more.
She understood.
Even after everything.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered.
Amy looked away.
“I’m not angry.””
“You should be.””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“I know what your mother has been doing. I know she spent months making you believe I was the problem.””
She touched Frederick’s baby bag.
“I know you’re trying to figure out who you can trust.””
Then she looked at me.
“But Connor, there is one thing I need you to remember.””
“What?””
“Your mother wanted us divided.””
The words sat between us.
“She spent months telling me you would choose her.””
Amy’s voice became softer.
“And now someone is sending you messages telling you not to trust me.””
I looked at my phone.
The timing was too perfect.
Too calculated.
“You think it’s connected?””
“Yes.””
I nodded.
“Me too.””
But there was still one question.
Who was helping my mother?
That evening, Daniel came to our house.
He brought documents, copies of records, and the kind of serious expression that meant he had found something important.
He sat at our kitchen table.
The same table where my mother had once placed papers in front of me.
The same table where she had probably planned everything.
“I traced the unknown number,” Daniel said.
“And?””
“It’s a prepaid phone.””
My stomach tightened.
“So nothing?””
“Not nothing.””
He opened his laptop.
“The number was activated three weeks before your mother’s birthday party.””
“Three weeks?””
“Yes.””
Amy leaned forward.
“That’s when she started planning everything.””
Daniel nodded.
“Probably.””
I looked at the documents.
“Can you find out who bought it?””
“Not directly.””
“Then how do we know who’s helping her?””
Daniel looked at me.
“We don’t.””
The answer frustrated me.
For the first time in my career, I understood what it felt like to build something without knowing where the foundation was.
Everything felt unstable.
Then Daniel pulled out a photograph.
“This was taken from a security camera.””
I looked at it.
It showed my mother entering a building.
I recognized it.
The lawyer’s office.
“When was this?””
“The day before Frederick was born.””
Amy went still.
“The day before?””
Daniel nodded.
“She was there for almost three hours.””
I looked at Amy.
She whispered:
“She visited the lawyer before the baby was even born.””
Something about that made everything darker.
My son wasn’t even here yet.
And my mother was already planning how to control our future.
“What happened after she left?””
Daniel clicked another image.
A second person appeared.
My heart stopped.
It was my aunt Betsy.
Of course.
The woman who laughed while Amy worked in the kitchen.
The woman who said a supported woman needed to earn her place.
The woman who had been standing beside my mother the entire day.
“She was involved from the beginning,” I said.
Daniel nodded.
“Looks like it.””
I stood up.
“I’m going to talk to her.””
Amy immediately looked at me.
“Be careful.””
“I just want answers.””
Daniel closed his laptop.
“Connor, people who plan things like this usually don’t admit it when confronted.””
“Then what do I do?””
“Listen.””
I frowned.
“Listen?””
“Don’t accuse. Don’t threaten. Let her talk.””
I understood.
People revealed themselves when they believed they were in control.
I found Aunt Betsy the next morning at her house.
She opened the door and looked surprised.
“Connor.””
“Can we talk?””
She looked behind me.
“Is Teresa with you?””
“No.””
That made her relax.
A little.
She stepped aside.
“Come in.””
Her living room looked normal.
Family photos.
Coffee table.
Soft lighting.
It was strange how ordinary everything looked.
How evil things could hide behind ordinary walls.
She offered me coffee.
I refused.
She sat down.
“So what’s this about?””
I looked at her.
“You know what it’s about.””
Her expression remained calm.
“I’m afraid I don’t.””
“My mother.””
The calm disappeared slightly.
“What about her?””
“You helped her.””
A long pause.
Then Betsy sighed.
“Connor…”
“No.””
I leaned forward.
“I want the truth.””
She looked away.
“You don’t understand.””
“Then explain it.””
She folded her hands.
“Your mother was worried.””
“About what?””
“About losing you.””
I almost laughed.
“She tried to destroy my marriage because she was worried?””
“She believed Amy was changing you.””
I shook my head.
“You believed that too?””
Betsy didn’t answer.
That was enough.
“You did.””
She looked uncomfortable.
“Amy was always distant.””
“That’s a lie.””
“She didn’t like Teresa.””
“Because Teresa was attacking her.””
Betsy’s face hardened.
“You weren’t there.””
“No.””
I looked around the room.
“But my wife was.””
Silence.
Then Betsy said something that surprised me.
“Your mother didn’t start this because she hated Amy.””
I stared at her.
“Then why?””
Betsy looked nervous.
“Because she was afraid.””
“Of what?””
She swallowed.
“Of what would happen if you found out the truth.””
The room suddenly felt colder.
“What truth?””
Betsy stood.
“I shouldn’t have said that.””
I followed her with my eyes.
“What truth, Betsy?””
She shook her head.
“I’ve already said too much.””
“No.””
My voice sharpened.
“You don’t get to tell me there’s a secret and then walk away.””
She looked at me.
For a moment, I thought she would tell me.
Then her phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
And immediately looked afraid.
I saw the name.
Teresa.
Betsy declined the call.
A second later, another message appeared.
She looked at it.
Then quickly turned the phone over.
But I had already seen enough.
The message preview said:
*He knows. Get rid of the documents.*
My heart started pounding.
“What documents?””
Betsy froze.
She realized her mistake.
Slowly, she looked at me.
And for the first time since I arrived, she looked terrified.
“Connor…”
“What documents?””
She didn’t answer.
I stepped closer.
“Where are they?””
Her eyes moved toward the hallway.
Just for a second.
But I noticed.
There was a room down that hallway.
A locked room.
And suddenly I knew.
The documents weren’t gone.
They were here.
I walked toward the hallway.
Betsy grabbed my arm.
“Don’t.””
I turned.
“Why?””
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
“Because if you open that door, you’ll find out your mother wasn’t trying to take your house.””
I stared at her.
“Then what was she trying to take?””
Betsy let go of my arm.
Her face was full of regret.
“She was trying to take your son.””
The words hit me harder than anything before.
I couldn’t move.
I couldn’t speak.
Then from inside the locked room, my phone buzzed.
A new message.
I looked down.
The unknown number had sent another photo.
This time, it wasn’t a document.
It was a picture of Frederick.
Taken while he was sleeping in his crib.
May you like
And underneath it were five words:
*She planned this before his birth.*
