Derek responded by turning the accusation around.
When family members noticed missing money, he blamed Ryan.
That was the “family money problem” my husband had refused to explain.
Ryan had been trying to protect everyone from the ugliness.
Then he became sick.
And eventually died.
No case was ever filed.
But Derek knew Ryan had evidence. Ryan had told him that.
For three years, Derek apparently lived with the fear that those papers might still come to light.
Then, about a month earlier, I made an innocent remark to one of Ryan’s cousins.
I said I was finally planning to sort through the storage unit.
Someone told Derek.
He panicked.
If I opened Ryan’s boxes, I might discover the evidence.
So Derek came up with another plan.
What if I found different evidence instead?
Evidence that made Ryan look like the thief?
If forged documents were planted among Ryan’s genuine belongings, I would probably believe them.
After all, I would have found them myself.
Derek couldn’t enter my house.
He couldn’t get into my storage unit.
But Ethan could.
And Ethan could persuade me to take him there.
That was when the cruelty of it all became unbearable.
