“She was alive?”
“Yes.”
“And Daniel knew?”
“For years.”
I couldn’t speak.
Then Marcus said something that made everything even worse.
“She wasn’t working with him.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“She contacted us.”
“Why?”
“She says she has been trying to warn you.”
The door opened.
A woman entered.
Older than the photograph.
Tired.
Terrified.
She looked at me with tears in her eyes.
“My name is Rebecca.”
I couldn’t move.
She sat across from me.
“Daniel told you I was dead because he needed you to believe there was nobody left who knew the truth about him.”
“What truth?”
Rebecca swallowed.
“He didn’t marry you because he loved you.”
The words hit harder than anything else.
“He married you because of the house.”
I stared at her.
“Our house?”
She nodded.
“Your father left it to you, didn’t he?”
“Yes.”
“Daniel knew.”
I felt sick.
Rebecca continued.
“He had debts. Gambling debts. Business debts. He needed access to the property. But your father put restrictions on the inheritance. Daniel couldn’t sell the house while you were alive.”
I remembered the strange papers Daniel had once asked me to sign.
I had refused because I didn’t understand them.
He had laughed and told me I was being paranoid.
