Chapter 3: The Name Written in the Past
“Ask about Rebecca.””
Three words.
Three words written in black ink at the bottom of a divorce agreement.
Three words that turned my entire body cold.
Because Rebecca wasn’t just a name.
Rebecca was the person who knew me before Marcus ever entered my life.
She was my older sister.
My protector.
My best friend.
And she had been gone for six years.
I stared at the handwriting until the letters blurred.
No.
That wasn’t possible.
My sister couldn’t have anything to do with this.
She couldn’t be connected to a divorce agreement created by the man who was trying to destroy my marriage.
She couldn’t be connected to Marcus.
Not after everything.
“Emily?””
Marcus’s voice pulled me back.
I looked up.
His expression had changed.
For the first time tonight, he looked afraid.
Not guilty.
Not sorry.
Afraid.
And that told me more than his silence ever could.
“You know about Rebecca,” I whispered.
Nobody moved.
Vivian’s confident expression disappeared.
Evelyn looked at her son.
Marcus looked at the floor.
That was enough.
“You know,” I repeated.
Marcus swallowed.
“Emily, there’s something you need to understand.””
I laughed quietly.
It wasn’t a happy sound.
“Every time you say that, it means there’s something you hid from me.””
“Listen to me.””
“No.””
My fingers tightened around the divorce papers.
“You listen.””
The lobby had become completely silent.
The same people who watched Vivian slap me were now watching me hold a document that apparently connected my dead sister to my husband’s betrayal.
“I spent six years believing I lost my sister because of an accident,” I said.
My voice shook.
“But now I’m standing here with my husband and his family, and I’m finding out there’s something about Rebecca nobody thought I deserved to know.””
Marcus looked at me.
“Rebecca was complicated.””
My heart stopped.
Because those were the exact words people used when they wanted to make someone look guilty after they were gone.
“Don’t talk about her like that.””
“I’m not trying to insult her.””
“You don’t get to describe her.””
My voice cracked.
“You didn’t know her.””
Marcus looked away.
That hurt.
Because he had known her.
Or at least I thought he had.
The memory came back suddenly.
A rainy afternoon six years ago.
Rebecca sitting across from me at my tiny apartment kitchen table.
Her hands wrapped around a mug of coffee she never drank.
“Emily,” she had said, “promise me something.””
I had smiled.
“What?””
“If someone tells you something about me after I’m gone, don’t believe them immediately.””
I laughed at the time.
“Why would anyone tell me something bad about you?””
She looked toward the window.
Because even then, she seemed scared.
“Because people are good at rewriting stories.””
I never understood what she meant.
Until now.
“Marcus,” I said slowly, “how did Rebecca’s name get on these papers?””
He didn’t answer.
Evelyn closed her eyes.
“Marcus.””
Her voice was different.
Not like a mother protecting her son.
Like someone disappointed in him.
“You should tell her.””
Marcus looked at her.
“You’re really doing this now?””
Evelyn’s face hardened.
“She deserves the truth.””
I looked between them.
“Why does everyone keep saying that?””
I held up the papers.
“Why did everyone know my life was changing except me?””
Marcus took a breath.
Then he said something I never expected.
“Rebecca helped me.””
The words landed like a punch.
I stared at him.
“My sister?””
“Yes.””
“No.””
He stepped closer.
“She knew things about your family.””
I shook my head.
“You’re lying.””
“I’m not.””
“You’re telling me my sister helped you prepare a divorce agreement against me?””
“No.””
His answer came too quickly.
And somehow that scared me more.
“Then what did she do?””
Marcus’s eyes moved to the papers.
“Rebecca helped me protect the company.””
I felt sick.
“My sister helped you protect your company?””
“She thought it was necessary.””
“Why?””
Silence.
Then Marcus said:
“Because she knew what your father did.””
Everything stopped.
My father.
A man I had not spoken about in years.
A man whose mistakes had followed our family long after he disappeared.
I looked at Marcus.
“What does my father have to do with this?””
He hesitated.
And that hesitation brought back something I hated.
The feeling that everyone had been discussing my life in rooms I wasn’t invited into.
“I asked you a question.””
Marcus lowered his voice.
“Your father left behind debt.””
“I know.””
“No, Emily. You don’t know everything.””
My chest tightened.
“He made financial agreements that affected other people.””
I shook my head.
“Where are you going with this?””
Marcus looked at Evelyn.
She answered.
“Your father nearly destroyed several businesses before he disappeared.””
I stared at her.
“And?””
“And one of those businesses belonged to Marcus’s family.””
The pieces started moving.
Slowly.
Painfully.
“You married me because of my father?””
Marcus immediately responded.
“No.””
But his speed made me question him.
“You knew who I was before we met.””
He said nothing.
I felt my stomach drop.
“Marcus.””
He rubbed his face.
“I knew your last name.””
That wasn’t an answer.
That was a confession.
I stepped back.
“How long?””
“Emily—”
“How long did you know?””
His silence lasted too long.
“Since before our first date.””
The pain was worse than I expected.
Not because he knew.
Because I remembered that first date.
I remembered him laughing when I spilled coffee on my coat.
I remembered him saying:
“You don’t have to impress me. I already like you.””
I remembered thinking I had finally found someone who saw me.
But maybe he had seen something else.
A connection.
A weakness.
A way in.
“You approached me.””
Marcus’s face changed.
“No.””
“You knew my family.””
“It wasn’t like that.””
“Then what was it like?””
He had no answer.
Vivian suddenly spoke.
“Marcus did what he had to do.””
I turned toward her.
“What?””
She crossed her arms.
“You don’t understand the damage your family caused.””
I stared at her.
“And you do?””
She smiled slightly.
“I know enough.””
Something about the way she said it made me suspicious.
“You.””
She looked at me.
“What?””
“You were involved too.””
Her expression changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
Marcus noticed too.
“Vivian.””
She looked at him.
“What?””
“Stop.””
That one word made my heart beat faster.
Because Marcus wasn’t stopping her from hurting me.
He was stopping her from saying too much.
I looked at Vivian.
“How long have you known about me?””
She didn’t answer.
“Answer me.””
Her eyes narrowed.
“Longer than you think.””
The lobby felt colder.
I looked at Marcus.
“Who is she?””
He looked annoyed.
“She’s my business consultant.””
I almost smiled.
“Is that what you call everyone who helps you destroy their lives?””
Vivian stepped forward.
“You should be careful.””
There it was.
The arrogance.
The same confidence she had when she slapped me.
She thought she was untouchable.
“You’re pregnant,” she continued.
“You should focus on keeping yourself healthy instead of chasing things you don’t understand.””
My hand moved protectively over my stomach.
But this time, I didn’t feel weak.
I felt angry.
“You don’t get to mention my baby.””
She stared at me.
“I’m just saying—”
“No.””
I cut her off.
“You lost the right to say anything about my child the moment you put your hands on me.””
Marcus looked uncomfortable.
“Emily, we need to leave.””
I looked at him.
“Where?””
“Home.””
The word sounded strange.
Home.
Did we still have one?
“You mean the house you’re trying to take from me?””
His face tightened.
“I’m not taking anything.””
I opened the folder again.
I flipped through the pages.
Then I saw another document attached.
A property transfer agreement.
My eyes moved across the page.
The house.
The one we bought together.
The one where we painted the nursery.
The one where we stood in the empty living room and promised our child would grow up there.
My name was crossed out.
My signature was there.
But it wasn’t mine.
My hands started shaking.
“Marcus.””
He went silent.
“This signature.””
I held up the page.
“Who signed this?””
Nobody answered.
I looked at him.
“Who signed my name?””
The expression on his face changed.
Because he knew.
And then Evelyn whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“Rebecca did.””
I stared at her.
“No.””
My voice barely came out.
“My sister would never.””
Marcus looked at me with a sadness that felt almost real.
“Emily…”
I stepped away.
“No.””
The tears finally came.
Not because of Vivian.
Not because of the divorce.
Not even because of Marcus.
Because suddenly, the one person I trusted more than anyone else had become part of the mystery.
Rebecca.
My sister.
The woman who always told me she would protect me.
I looked down at the forged signature.
Then at Marcus.
“Tell me the truth.””
He stayed silent.
So I asked the only question left.
“The night Rebecca died…”
May you like
My voice trembled.
“What were you doing with my sister?””
