Chapter 3 - Eight Months of Lies
I didn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, numbers floated through the darkness.
Eight months.
Eight months.
Eight months.
By sunrise, Mom was asleep in the recliner downstairs, Lily was curled under a blanket on the couch, and I was sitting at the kitchen table with my laptop.
My hands shook as I opened my bank account.
At first, everything looked normal.
Then I checked archived transfers.
Small amounts.
Four hundred dollars.
Six hundred.
Nine hundred.
Always small enough that I hadn't noticed.
Transfers labeled utilities.
Wedding vendor.
Insurance.
Household expenses.
Except several accounts receiving the money weren't familiar.
By eight in the morning, Detective Hale was back.
This time he brought a financial-crimes investigator named Elena Brooks.
She placed a folder on my table.
“We believe Mr. Brandon Pierce may have been using access to your personal information to open credit accounts.”
“How many?”
“We're still determining that.”
I stared at her.
“How many have you found?”
“Five.”
My mother swore under her breath.
Elena continued.
“Two credit cards. One personal loan. One online line of credit. And a vehicle refinance application.”
“I don't own another vehicle.”
“Exactly.”
My stomach twisted.
The apartment suddenly felt contaminated.
Every drawer Brandon had opened.
Every password he had watched me type.
Every piece of mail he had offered to collect.
All of it became evidence.
“What about Kayla?”
Elena exchanged a look with Hale.
“That's more complicated.”
Of course it was.
Nothing could simply be awful anymore.
It had to become worse.
“What?”
“Several transfers went to an account linked to her.”
Mom stood.
“How much?”
“Approximately thirty-two thousand dollars over eight months.”
I looked at my mother.
She looked as stunned as I felt.
Kayla had borrowed money from me before.
A few hundred here.
A thousand there.
But thirty-two thousand?
“No.”
Elena opened another file.
“We think Brandon was moving money through Kayla's account.”
“Why?”
“That is what we're investigating.”
Then Hale placed photographs on the table.
Security-camera images.
Brandon entering a check-cashing business.
Kayla waiting in her sedan.
Brandon leaving.
Another image of them outside a pawn shop.
My grandmother's jewelry inventory suddenly flashed through my mind.
“No.”
I stood too quickly.
Pain tore through my ribs.
Lily caught my elbow.
“Mom.”
“Did they pawn something?”
Elena didn't answer immediately.
That was enough.
“What?”
“A bracelet.”
My grandmother's sapphire bracelet.
The one she wore at her wedding.
I had received it after she died.
I hadn't worn it in months.
It should have been in the lockbox.
I pressed one hand over my mouth.
Mom began crying.
Not loudly.
That somehow made it worse.
Elena leaned forward.
“We believe most of the jewelry is still accounted for. The bracelet was pawned three months ago.”
Three months.
I had eaten Thanksgiving dinner with Kayla three months ago.
She had hugged me.
She had asked whether I wanted more pie.
Brandon had sat beside me with his hand on my knee.
Neither had looked guilty.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
Hale told me not to answer.
Then his phone buzzed.
He looked at the message.
“Brandon's attorney.”
“What does he want?”
“He's claiming Brandon was coerced by Kayla.”
I almost smiled.
Of course he was.
“He's blaming her?”
“Primarily.”
Mom shook her head.
“Coward.”
The next call was from Kayla's attorney.
Her story?
Brandon had manipulated her.
By noon, the two people who had spent ten days covering up a felony together were accusing each other of masterminding everything.
It would have been funny if my entire life weren't sitting in evidence bags.
Then came the first truly viral moment.
Not because I wanted it.
Because somebody outside the courthouse recorded Kayla being released temporarily pending a hearing.
A reporter asked whether she had anything to say to the sister she allegedly struck.
Kayla stopped.
For one second, I thought she might apologize.
Instead she said:
“My sister has always been dramatic.”
The video hit social media before dinner.
By midnight, it had millions of views.
People couldn't believe it.
She hits her sister and calls HER dramatic?
Imagine leaving your sister in the road and then stealing from her.
The fiancé visited the ICU just to check if she remembered? This is evil.
I hated the attention.
Lily didn't.
She sat beside me reading comments.
“Mom, the entire internet is on your side.”
“I don't want an internet side.”
“You might when lawyers get expensive.”
She was right.
But that wasn't what frightened me.
What frightened me was the text that arrived at 12:47 a.m.
Unknown number.
One sentence.
Ask Brandon why he increased your life insurance six weeks before the accident.
I stared at it for so long that Lily noticed.
“What?”
I handed her the phone.
Her face changed.
“Mom...”
I called Detective Hale immediately.
He answered on the third ring.
I read him the message.
There was silence.
“Nicole,” he finally said, “don't contact Brandon. Don't contact your sister.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“And don't dismiss this as a prank.”
My pulse hammered.
“Why?”
Another pause.
“Because we found an insurance document in the materials from your bedroom.”
I couldn't breathe.
“How much?”
“Five hundred thousand dollars.”
“And the beneficiary?”
He didn't need to answer.
But he did.
“Brandon Pierce.”
My broken ribs suddenly felt insignificant.
Because for the first time, I had to consider something far more frightening than theft.
What if Kayla hitting me had not been the beginning of the plan?
May you like
What if it had been the part that went wrong?
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