Nobody spoke for several seconds.
I kept staring at the officer.
“David Miller is dead.”
“I know.”
“My husband died twenty years ago.”
“I understand.”
“Then someone is pretending to be him.”
“Yes.”
Sarah sat beside me.
“Constance, do you remember anyone who knew your husband's financial history?”
I thought.
“There were lawyers.”
“Names?”
“One was Daniel Price.”
The officer wrote it down.
“He handled the insurance settlement.”
“Anyone else?”
“My accountant.”
“Anyone in the family?”
I looked toward Ellen.
She shook her head.
“No.”
Robert looked at her.
“You knew more than you told me.”
She stared back.
“I didn't know about the old accounts.”
“Your mother told you about the insurance.”
“Years ago.”
“But you remembered.”
“Yes.”
I looked at Ellen.
“What did you tell Robert?”
“Only that Dad had left money.”
“How much?”
“I didn't know.”
Robert looked away.
Sarah asked, “Did you ever tell him about the policy?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“After Mom got sick.”
Robert interrupted.
“She mentioned it once.”
Ellen looked at him.
“You said you already knew.”
“I thought I did.”
The contradiction hung there.
The officer's phone rang.
He answered.
We watched him listen.
Then his expression hardened.
“Where?”
He listened again.
“I'll send someone.”
He ended the call.
“What happened?” Sarah asked.
“The accountant found something.”
“What?”
“A storage box.”
I stared.
“Where?”
“At his office.”
“What was inside?”
“He hasn't opened it.”
“Why?”
“Because the box is sealed.”
Sarah looked at me.
“Does he know what's inside?”
“He says it belonged to your husband.”
My heart began beating faster.
I had thought every part of my husband's estate had been settled.
Apparently it hadn't.
Or someone had made sure I believed it had.
The officer asked whether I wanted to go to the office.
Sarah immediately said no.
“You're not leaving the hospital.”
“I need to know what's there.”
“We can bring the documents here.”
“What if they're important?”
“They'll still be important in an hour.”
She was right.
I hated that she was right.
Ellen sat quietly.
I looked at her.
“Do you remember anything your father kept hidden?”
She frowned.
“No.”
“He had a metal box.”
Her eyes widened.
“Under the bed?”
“Yes.”
“What happened to it?”
“I thought it was empty.”
She shook her head.
“Dad never kept things empty.”
I looked at her.
“You remember that?”
“Yes.”
Robert interrupted.
“That's irrelevant.”
Ellen turned toward him.
“Why?”
“Because we're talking about old papers.”
“Then why are you nervous?”
He said nothing.
The officer watched him.
“Mr. Miller, did you know about the storage box?”
Robert shook his head.
“No.”
Sarah looked at him.
“You're sure?”
“Yes.”
The officer received another message.
He read it.
Then he looked at Robert.
“The accountant says the box contains your name.”
Robert's face went pale.
“What?”
“He says your name is written on the outside.”
Robert stood.
“I need to leave.”
The officer blocked the door.
“You're staying here.”
“I need a lawyer.”
“You can have one.”
Robert looked toward Ellen.
She wouldn't look at him.
He seemed to realize he had lost her.
Not financially.
Personally.
The nurse came in to check my IV.
I watched her carefully.
She smiled.
“How are you feeling?”
“Better.”
“Good.”
She adjusted the line.
Then left.
I waited until the door closed.
Sarah noticed my expression.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She frowned.
“What is it?”
“The nurse.”
“What about her?”
“She wasn't the nurse who was here earlier.”
Sarah became still.
The officer turned.
“What did you notice?”
“The badge looked different.”
“Could be another nurse.”
“Yes.”
“But?”
I swallowed.
“The medication label.”
Sarah looked at the tray.
The vial was gone.
I hadn't seen what she had administered.
The officer immediately called the nursing station.
A few minutes later, the real nurse entered.
I pointed toward the door.
“Who was that?”
The nurse looked confused.
“I don't know.”
“You don't know?”
“No. I was with another patient.”
The officer left the room.
Sarah remained beside me.
My hands began shaking.
The plan had been simple.
Make me look incapable.
Control my medications.
Create records.
Take control of the money.
But now someone had entered my hospital room pretending to be staff.
That meant the scheme was still active.
And whoever was behind it was becoming desperate.
The officer returned.
“We can't find her.”
“What do you mean?”
“She used a temporary badge.”
“From where?”
“We're checking.”
Sarah looked at Robert.
His face was unreadable.
The officer asked, “Do you know anything about this?”
Robert shook his head.
“No.”
Ellen suddenly spoke.
“He does.”
Robert turned.
“Ellen.”
“You told me someone would make sure Mom stayed quiet.”
His face changed.
“I didn't mean this.”
“You said everything would be handled.”
“I didn't arrange this.”
“You said there were people who could make things disappear.”
Robert stared at her.
“Stop talking.”
“No.”
She stood.
“I've been afraid of you for months.”
Robert's expression hardened.
“You don't know what you're doing.”
“I know exactly what I'm doing.”
She looked at me.
“I'm telling the truth.”
Robert stepped toward her.
The officer stopped him.
“Stay back.”
Ellen continued.
“He told me there was a man who could make paperwork disappear.”
Sarah asked, “Who?”
“I don't know his name.”
“What did he look like?”
She closed her eyes.
“Gray hair. Thin. Always wore a dark coat.”
Robert whispered, “Ellen.”
She ignored him.
“He came to our house once.”
“When?”
“About three months ago.”
“What did he say?”
“He asked about Mom.”
“What exactly?”
Ellen hesitated.
“He asked whether she still remembered the insurance account.”
My heart stopped.
“Why?”
“He said someone had been looking for it.”
Sarah leaned forward.
“Did he mention your husband's name?”
Ellen nodded.
“He said David Miller had left something unfinished.”
I felt a chill.
My husband had been dead for twenty years.
Yet someone had been talking about him recently.
Someone had been using his name.
Someone had been searching for his financial records.
And someone had entered my hospital room today.
The officer's phone rang again.
He answered.
Then looked at Sarah.
“The storage box has been opened.”
My heart tightened.
“By whom?”
He listened.
“Someone forced the lock.”
“Was anything taken?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“The accountant says one envelope is missing.”
“What envelope?”
He looked at me.
“It was labeled with your husband's name.”
I closed my eyes.
There was a secret my husband had never told me.
Or perhaps there was something he had tried to protect me from.
Sarah asked, “What else was in the box?”
The officer checked his notes.
“A photograph.”
“Of whom?”
“Your husband.”
“With?”
He hesitated.
“With another man.”
“Who?”
“We don't know.”
I opened my eyes.
“Describe him.”
“Gray hair.”
My heart sank.
“Thin?”
“Yes.”
“Dark coat?”
“Yes.”
Ellen covered her mouth.
“That was him.”
Robert lowered his head.
The officer looked at him.
“You recognize him.”
Robert remained silent.
“Mr. Miller.”
Still nothing.
Finally, Robert whispered:
“His name is Victor Hale.”
Sarah stiffened.
I looked at her.
“You know him?”
She didn't answer immediately.
Then she said:
“I know the name.”
“From where?”
“Your husband's old estate file.”
My breath caught.
“What did it say?”
Sarah looked toward the police officer.
“The file contained a note.”
“What note?”
She took out her phone and searched through her records.
Then she read it.
“Do not allow Victor Hale access to Constance or the original policy documents.”
I stared at her.
“When was that written?”
“Twenty years ago.”
The room went silent.
My husband's warning had been written before he died.
Victor Hale had apparently been waiting for twenty years.
And now he was back.
The officer looked toward the door.
“We need to move you.”
“Where?”
“Somewhere secure.”
Sarah nodded.
Ellen stood.
“I'm coming with her.”
I looked at my daughter.
For the first time since this nightmare began, I didn't know whether she was someone I needed to protect from Robert or someone I needed to protect myself from.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message appeared from an unknown number.
I opened it.
There was only one sentence.
“Your husband didn't die without leaving instructions.”
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
“You are about to learn why.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 9: My Husband’s Warning Was Twenty Years Old, Yet It Described the Man Standing Behind My Daughter’s Betrayal
The Moment My Daughter Reached for My Money, I Realized She Had Been Waiting for Something Much Darker
Part 8 of 15
