Chapter 7 - THE WIFE BEFORE ME
Evan had told me I was his first wife.
We met when I was twenty-eight.
He was charming in the controlled way wealthy men often are when they have never heard the word no.
He sent flowers to my office.
Remembered my coffee order.
Called my grandmother every Sunday after meeting her.
When he proposed, he told me he had avoided marriage because he had never trusted anyone enough.
That was a lie.
Olivia Reed had married Evan when they were both twenty-one.
She had died eleven months later.
The marriage had been sealed from public records after her death.
Detective Grant obtained the file through Fallon’s seized documents.
Olivia had been admitted for “acute paranoid psychosis.”
Her symptoms?
She claimed Evan monitored her calls.
She claimed Claudia controlled their finances.
She claimed Marcus threatened her.
She claimed Dr. Fallon falsified medical records.
The exact things that later happened to me.
Two weeks after admission, Olivia died from what the facility called accidental medication toxicity.
No autopsy.
Private cremation.
Case closed.
I felt sick reading it.
“Was Evan involved?”
Grant leaned against the conference room wall.
“We don’t know.”
“He never mentioned her.”
“No.”
“Claudia?”
“No.”
“Marcus?”
“Signed the settlement preventing Olivia’s parents from speaking publicly.”
I looked up.
“Her parents are alive?”
Grant nodded.
“They live in Oregon.”
Within forty-eight hours, Olivia’s younger sister arrived.
Rachel Monroe.
She was forty now.
She carried a photograph of Olivia.
Blonde.
Laughing.
Standing beside a twenty-one-year-old Evan Reed.
The resemblance to me wasn’t exact.
But enough.
Same height.
Same soft features.
Same tendency toward quietness.
Rachel studied my face.
“He has a type.”
I didn’t know what to say.
She sat across from me.
“My parents believed Olivia was unstable.”
My chest tightened.
“Because Fallon told them?”
“Because Evan did.”
Rachel explained.
At first Olivia adored the Reed family.
Then she began calling home crying.
Evan monitored her spending.
Claudia criticized her friendships.
Marcus appeared whenever Olivia threatened divorce.
Eventually Olivia said she discovered financial documents in her name.
My blood turned cold.
“Accounts?”
Rachel nodded.
“Shell companies.”
The same scheme.
Twenty years earlier.
Olivia threatened to expose them.
Three days later, Evan called her parents.
He said she had suffered a psychotic break.
Dr. Fallon recommended emergency treatment.
They trusted him.
“Did you?”
Rachel shook her head.
“I was nineteen. Nobody listened to me.”
After Olivia died, Rachel broke into her sister’s apartment before the Reed family cleared it.
She took one thing.
A cassette tape.
Olivia had recorded conversations.
Grant played the digitized audio.
Static filled the room.
Then Olivia’s voice.
“If something happens to me, Evan knows.”
My entire body went rigid.
Another voice.
Evan.
Young.
Terrified.
“Stop saying that.”
“You saw what Marcus did.”
“I can fix this.”
“You keep saying that.”
“My mother will handle him.”
“Your mother is afraid of him.”
Then Olivia said:
“You found Margaret too, didn’t you?”
The room went silent.
Evan had known Margaret existed.
At twenty-one.
Long before he claimed ignorance in his voicemail.
The tape continued.
“She’s your mother, Evan.”
“I know.”
“You need to go to the police.”
“I can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because Marcus says if I do, Claudia goes to prison for my father.”
Richard’s death.
Marcus had used it to control Evan.
Evan knew his biological mother was alive.
He knew Claudia had killed—or accidentally caused the death of—Richard.
He knew Marcus possessed evidence.
And he stayed silent.
Then Olivia’s voice softened.
“We can leave.”
“No.”
“Evan—”
“I said no.”
A crash.
Olivia gasped.
The recording ended.
I stared at the machine.
Rachel wiped tears from her face.
“My sister died six days later.”
The similarities were no longer coincidence.
Olivia threatened exposure.
Olivia was institutionalized.
Olivia died.
Years later, I threatened Evan’s control.
They prepared to institutionalize me.
Would I have died too?
Nobody needed to answer.
That afternoon, prosecutors added new charges against Marcus.
Fallon was arrested.
Olivia’s death was reopened.
Evan was called in for questioning.
He left the police station eight hours later.
Not arrested.
Not yet.
Reporters surrounded him.
He refused questions.
But one camera captured something important.
When a reporter shouted, “Did you know your first wife was being drugged against her will?”
Evan stopped walking.
His face collapsed.
He knew.
That same evening, Vanessa visited me.
She had stopped wearing the engagement ring.
She placed it on the table.
“Your grandmother’s.”
I looked at it.
“Keep it.”
She stared.
“I can’t.”
“I don’t want it anymore.”
“It belongs to your family.”
“So did the man who stole it.”
Vanessa slowly pushed the ring toward me.
“I testified against him today.”
I looked up.
“What did you tell them?”
“Everything.”
Including something she had withheld before.
Three months earlier, Vanessa overheard Marcus and Evan arguing.
Marcus told Evan:
We handled Olivia because you panicked. Don’t make me clean up another wife.
Vanessa thought he meant divorce.
Now she knew better.
“Did Evan answer?”
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
Vanessa’s eyes filled.
“He said, ‘Lily isn’t Olivia. I won’t let you hurt her.’”
For one foolish second, a part of me almost felt relief.
Then Vanessa continued.
“Marcus said, ‘Then control her yourself.’”
I closed my eyes.
Evan had chosen.
Maybe he didn’t plan to kill me.
Maybe he only planned to destroy my credibility, take Noah, steal my identity, and lock me inside a hospital until I stopped fighting.
How generous.
Two nights later, Noah woke screaming at 2:13 a.m.
I picked him up.
Then I smelled smoke.
Not from the kitchen.
Outside.
I looked through the curtain.
A car burned in the parking lot.
Grant’s unmarked police vehicle.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
A man’s voice.
Cole Brennan.
“You have something that belongs to my family.”
“What?”
“The Mercer drive.”
“It’s with the police.”
“I know.”
“Then why call me?”
He laughed softly.
“Because the drive wasn’t the only copy.”
My heart pounded.
“You have another?”
“No.”
A pause.
“You do.”
I stared at the red folder sitting on my table.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ask yourself why Marcus laughed when he first saw that folder.”
My throat tightened.
“He recognized it.”
“He should.”
May you like
Brennan’s voice turned cold.
“It belonged to Olivia.”
