Chapter 6: The Letter My Sister Left Behind
“The truth that I was the last person who saw your sister alive.””
Marcus’s words stayed in the air.
I stared at him.
The man standing in my nursery was the same man who used to sing badly while cooking breakfast. The same man who kissed my forehead every morning before work. The same man who held my hand through every painful moment of our journey to become parents.
But tonight, I didn’t see my husband.
I saw a stranger.
A stranger who knew my sister’s final hours.
A stranger who had lied to me for six years.
A stranger who was now asking me not to read the last words Rebecca left for me.
I held the envelope tighter.
“No.””
Marcus’s face changed.
“Emily.””
“No.””
My voice was quiet.
But it carried more strength than I expected.
“You don’t get to tell me what my sister wanted me to know.””
“I’m trying to protect you.””
The words almost made me smile.
“Protect me?””
I looked around the nursery.
“At what point exactly were you protecting me, Marcus?””
He didn’t answer.
“When you married me because you were investigating my father?””
Silence.
“When you hid Rebecca’s last meeting with you?””
Silence.
“When you prepared divorce papers while I was carrying your child?””
His eyes lowered.
“That’s not fair.””
I stared at him.
“Fair?””
I walked closer.
“You want to talk about fair?””
My voice shook.
“My sister died, and I buried her believing she was alone. I spent nights wondering if she was scared. If she knew she was going to die. If she called someone and nobody answered.””
I swallowed hard.
“And you were there.””
Marcus closed his eyes.
“I couldn’t save her.””
The sentence hit me.
Not because it made me forgive him.
Because it confirmed it.
“You were there.””
“Yes.””
“Tell me what happened.””
He looked at the envelope.
“After you read that, everything changes.””
“Good.””
His eyes lifted.
“Emily.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“You’ve spent six years deciding what I could handle.””
I held up the envelope.
“My sister trusted me with the truth.””
I turned away from him.
“Leave.””
He didn’t move.
“Emily.””
“Leave.””
For a moment, I thought he would argue.
The old Marcus would have.
He would have explained.
He would have tried to make me understand.
But this Marcus just stood there.
Broken.
Then he quietly walked out.
I waited until I heard the front door close.
Only then did I let myself breathe.
I sat on the nursery floor.
The same floor where I had imagined my baby crawling.
The same room where Marcus and I once laughed about whether our child would inherit his stubbornness or my impatience.
Now I was sitting there holding a letter from my dead sister.
A letter she wrote because she knew the truth would hurt me.
My hands trembled as I opened it.
Inside was a single page.
Rebecca’s handwriting filled the paper.
The first line nearly broke me.
*Dear Emily,*
*If you are reading this, then I was right.*
I stopped.
My vision blurred.
I wiped my eyes and continued.
*I hoped I was wrong. I hoped Marcus would tell you himself. I hoped the truth would come out before I had to leave it behind like this.*
My heart raced.
*First, I need you to know something. I never stopped loving you. Not for one second. Everything I did was because I was trying to protect you.*
I pressed the paper against my chest.
That was Rebecca.
Even in death, she was still trying to protect me.
I kept reading.
*Marcus did not meet you by accident.*
My breath caught.
*When he first approached you, he was looking for information about Dad. He believed our family destroyed his. He believed you were part of the reason his family suffered.*
I closed my eyes.
I already knew that.
But seeing it written in my sister’s handwriting made it real.
*But then something changed.*
I continued.
**He fell in love with you. I believe that. I saw the way he looked at you.
I saw the way he changed around you. But love does not erase the damage caused by lies.**
My fingers tightened.
Rebecca understood.
She always understood.
*The night I died, I discovered something worse than Dad’s mistakes.*
I froze.
Worse?
*I found evidence that someone had been using Dad’s old accounts to hide illegal transactions. Someone wanted everyone to believe Dad was responsible for everything.*
My heart started beating faster.
*Marcus’s family was not the only victim. Someone inside their company was manipulating both families against each other.*
I looked toward the door.
The entire night replayed in my head.
Vivian.
The documents.
The fear on Marcus’s face.
*Emily, be careful with Vivian Cross.*
My stomach dropped.
*She is not who she says she is.*
I stopped reading.
Vivian.
Rebecca knew.
*She was close to Marcus before he ever met you. She knew about his investigation. She knew about your father. She knew exactly how to use his anger.*
I read the next line slower.
*I believe she wanted Marcus to hate you.*
A chill moved through me.
Why?
Why would Vivian want that?
*The night of my death, I was going to give Marcus proof. Proof that Vivian had been manipulating him. Proof that she was connected to the missing money.*
My hands started shaking.
*But Marcus arrived before I could show him everything.*
I stopped.
Before I could show him everything.
That meant Marcus knew.
Maybe not everything.
But something.
The next sentence made my blood run cold.
*Emily, Marcus did not kill me.*
I exhaled.
I hadn’t realized I was holding my breath.
But then I read the next line.
*However, he helped cover up what happened afterward.*
The room spun.
I kept reading.
*He was scared. He was angry. He thought protecting his family’s company mattered more than telling the truth.*
My eyes filled with tears.
Because somehow, that sounded exactly like him.
*If Marcus is standing in front of you asking for forgiveness, remember this: forgiveness is not the same as trust.*
A tear fell onto the paper.
*Trust is earned by the truth.*
At the bottom of the page was one final sentence.
*The person who caused my death is still close to you.*
I stared.
Then I saw the last words.
*And they know you have my letter.*
A noise came from downstairs.
I froze.
The house was silent.
Too silent.
Slowly, I folded the letter.
My heart pounded.
“Who’s there?””
No answer.
I stood carefully, one hand on my stomach.
“Hello?””
The floor creaked.
Someone was inside.
Not outside.
Inside.
I grabbed my phone.
The nursery door moved slightly.
Then a voice came from the hallway.
“Emily.””
My blood froze.
Because I knew that voice.
“Open the door.””
I stepped back.
It wasn’t Marcus.
It wasn’t Vivian.
It was someone I never expected.
“Emily, I know you found Rebecca’s letter.””
My hand tightened around my phone.
Because the person outside shouldn’t have known.
Nobody knew.
Nobody except—
The door opened slowly.
And standing there was Evelyn Cross.
Marcus’s mother.
Her face was pale.
Her eyes were filled with fear.
Not guilt.
Fear.
“What are you doing here?”” I whispered.
She looked at the letter in my hand.
Then she said something that made every piece of the puzzle shift.
“Because Rebecca wasn’t the only one who tried to expose Vivian.””
I stared at her.
“What does that mean?””
Evelyn stepped inside and closed the door behind her.
Then she whispered:
“Your sister left another letter.””
My heart stopped.
“Where?””
Evelyn looked toward the hallway.
Like she was afraid someone might hear.
“She gave it to someone she trusted.””
“Who?””
Her eyes met mine.
May you like
And the answer destroyed the last bit of certainty I had left.
“She gave it to Marcus.””
