My blood ran cold.
He hadn’t just cheated.
He’d been coordinating, planning, managing her pregnancy like it was an inconvenience.
I printed everything. When Caleb saw the papers, terror flashed across his face.
“Who is J. Richards?” I asked.
“No one,” he lied too fast.
Mariah whispered, horrified, “He told me someone would ‘handle things quietly’ if I caused trouble…”
A chill spread through the room.
Then my phone buzzed again—from an unknown number:
STOP DIGGING. YOU’RE NOT SAFE.
Tessa arrived. Her brother, a locksmith, came too. We changed the locks and installed a camera.
Caleb watched, seething. “You’re destroying this family,” he hissed.
“You destroyed it,” I replied. “I’m just refusing to hide it.”
He tried one last manipulation—voice low, pathetic. “If you do this, everyone will know. Your sister will be ruined.”
“No,” I said. “She’ll be protected. You’re the only one afraid of the truth.”
Mariah lifted her head then, seeing him clearly for the first time.
Caleb pointed at me. “You’ll hear from my lawyer.”
“Good,” I said. “So will we.”
He stormed out, and the new lock clicked behind him—sharp and final.