Chapter 3 - The Last NightThe police had called Lily's death an accident.
At least, that's what we had been told.
She had been driving home after work when her car left the road.
Rain had made the pavement slippery.
There were no witnesses.
No other vehicles had been involved.
The official conclusion was simple.
A tragic accident.
But now that Ethan had shown me those messages, I couldn't stop remembering the details.
Lily had always driven carefully.
She hated driving in storms.
She would have waited.
Unless something had happened inside that car.
I turned toward Richard.
“Did the police inspect the vehicle?”
“Yes.”
“Did they find anything unusual?”
He hesitated.
“I don't know.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Dad.”
Richard lowered his head.
“What?”
“Did you tell Mom about the brake issue?”
I froze.
“What brake issue?”
Richard looked at Ethan.
“What are you talking about?”
“The mechanic.”
“What mechanic?”
Ethan pulled up another message.
“Lily took her car to a mechanic two weeks before the accident.”
He showed us the invoice.
Brake inspection.
Suspicious wear.
Recommended replacement.
My chest tightened.
“Did she replace them?”
Ethan shook his head.
“The mechanic said she needed another appointment.”
Richard looked confused.
“But Lily said her car was fine.”
“Maybe she lied because she was worried.”
I remembered a conversation with Lily.
Three weeks earlier.
She had called me.
“Mom, can I stay with you this weekend?”
I had laughed.
“Of course. Why?”
“I just don't like being alone right now.”
I had been busy.
I had told her I had plans.
She never asked again.
That memory destroyed me.
“What did I miss?” I whispered.
Ethan put his phone away.
“That's what I'm trying to find out.”
We left the chapel before the funeral ended.
Ethan drove us to his apartment.
He had turned one wall into an investigation board.
Photographs.
Dates.
Receipts.
Insurance documents.
Medical records.
Phone numbers.
I stared at it.
“How long have you been doing this?”
“Since the day Lily died.”
“Why?”
“Because something felt wrong.”
He pointed to a photograph.
Lily's car.
The front end was destroyed.
“Look here.”
I stepped closer.
“What?”
“There are no skid marks.”
I looked at him.
“But the report says she lost control.”
“Exactly.”
He showed me another photograph.
“The road was wet.”
“Yes.”
“But if she slammed on the brakes, there should have been evidence.”
“Unless the brakes didn't work.”
“Or unless someone disabled them.”
I couldn't breathe.
Ethan continued.
“Then there's the insurance.”
He placed two documents beside each other.
One policy was worth $500,000.
The other was worth $2 million.
The second policy had been taken out only four months before Lily died.
“Who purchased it?”
“Lily.”
“Why?”
“She didn't.”
I stared at him.
“Then who did?”
Ethan looked at me.
“Someone forged her signature.”
I felt sick.
“Do you have proof?”
“Yes.”
He placed a copy of the application on the table.
I recognized the signature immediately.
It looked like Lily's.
But something was wrong.
My daughter always crossed the letter “t” with a long diagonal stroke.
This signature didn't.
“Who witnessed it?”
Ethan pointed to the bottom.
Dr. Samuel Crane.
My stomach twisted.
Then he pointed to the beneficiary.
Richard.
My husband.
I stared at the paper.
Richard would receive two million dollars if Lily died.
But that wasn't the worst part.
Evelyn had also signed as the secondary beneficiary.
I sat down.
“Why would my husband need money from my daughter?”
Ethan didn't answer.
May you like
Because suddenly we both knew.
There was something much bigger happening.
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