Chapter 11: The Night She Tried to Leave
I heard the garage door before I saw her.
It was just after eleven. The boys were finally asleep in Lucas's room, both curled on the same twin bed because Milo wouldn't sleep alone after the day we'd had. I'd left Daniel downstairs with our attorney on speaker, the nanny cam audio still sitting in my phone like a hot coal. Then the soft electric whine of the garage lifting carried up through the vents.
I slipped into the hall and looked down the stairs. The interior door to the garage was open. Light spilled across the polished concrete. Victoria was in there in jeans and a silk blouse, her long coat over her arm, pulling a large weekender bag from the shelving unit. Her suitcase was already by the side door, zipped.
She wasn't packing clothes. She moved to Daniel's office nook off the garage and knelt at the small wall safe. I watched her punch in the code. The safe gave its little beep and she swung it open.
That was when I made my choice.
I stepped back, eased Lucas's door closed, and turned the lock. It was a simple bedroom push-lock, nothing strong, but it was a choice. I wasn't going down there. I wasn't going to stand between her and what she was taking while the boys were asleep ten feet away.
Lucas stirred. "Miss Emily?" he whispered, eyes barely open.
"I'm here," I said quietly. "Stay with Milo, okay? We're going to stay right in here."
Milo sat up, blinking. "Is she leaving?"
"She's packing," I said. I kept my voice even, even while my hands weren't. I pulled my phone out and called Daniel, who'd stepped out to the driveway to take the attorney's call after I'd shown him the old phone.
He answered on the second ring. "Emily?"
"She's in the garage," I said, low. "She opened the safe. She's got her big bag by the door. I locked us in upstairs with the boys. I didn't want to— I didn't want them to see anything."
There was a pause, his breath audible. "Don't come down. Don't open that door. I'm at the front. I'm coming around."
I heard his footsteps break into a jog outside, then the crunch of gravel near the side gate. In the garage below, I heard a drawer slide shut and the clink of something metal.
Victoria's voice floated up, sharp. "Emily? Is that you sneaking around again?"
I didn't answer. I put my hand on Lucas's back and felt his quick breathing under his t-shirt.
Outside, headlights swept the driveway. Daniel's truck rumbled. I moved to the window and saw it from above. Victoria had backed her white Mercedes halfway out of the garage, the trunk open, the weekender inside. Daniel pulled his truck straight across the gated driveway, not touching her car, but close enough she couldn't get around without hitting the brick pillars or the lawn. The automatic gate lights came on, bright and yellow.
He got out with his phone already up, recording.
I couldn't hear everything, but I cracked the window an inch and his voice carried clearly in the night air.
"Victoria, stop the car," he said.
She left the driver's door open and stood there, one hand on the roof. "Move your truck, Daniel. This is absurd."
"You need to leave the house items," he said, steady. "The bracelet and the passports are not yours to take. Leave them and you can call a car."
She laughed, but it was thin. "That bracelet was a gift. And those passports are my documents. You don't get to hold me hostage."
"I'm not touching you or your car," Daniel said. He held the phone higher. "I'm recording so we're both clear. The bracelet is the subject of a false police report. It stays. The boys' passports stay in the safe where they belong. Your own passport, your bag, you can take."
Victoria reached into her coat pocket and pulled out the small velvet box. For a second I thought she would throw it, but she set it down hard on the hood of her Mercedes. The velvet made a soft thump under the garage lights.
"Fine," she said. "Have it. Have all of it."
She slammed the driver's door and pulled her personal weekender from the trunk, leaving the larger roller suitcase behind in the garage. She didn't try to get back in the car. She stood at the edge of the driveway under the gate light and tapped at her phone.
Daniel didn't move his truck. He stayed by his open door, phone still recording, his shoulders tight but his hands visible and empty at his sides.
About eight minutes later a silver rideshare pulled up to the outside of the gate. The driver hesitated at the truck blocking the way. Victoria walked to him, dragging her weekender, not looking back at the house. Daniel pressed the gate code and the pedestrian gate buzzed. She slipped through without a word.
The rideshare's taillights faded down the brick-paved road.
Daniel waited until it turned the corner before he stepped forward. He picked up the velvet box from her hood without opening it and set it on the hood of his own truck. Then he looked up toward the window where I was.
I lifted Milo, who'd crept to the window beside me, so Daniel could see us both.
He gave a small nod, his chest rising once with a deep breath, and lowered his phone.
Inside, Lucas whispered, "Did she go?"
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"She left," I said quietly. "She's not coming back in tonight. Daddy made sure."
I didn't unlock the bedroom door until Daniel came upstairs and knocked softly, three times, and said my name through the wood.
