Chapter 3 - Digging Up the Graves
The next forty-eight hours were a blur of adrenaline and old files. I stayed in a hotel near the police station, unable to face the quiet of my tiny Portland apartment. I dug through old boxes of legal documents, medical bills, and journals I had kept during my brief, tragic stint as a mother.
Detective Vance sat with me, sorting through Daniel's financial records from six years ago. It didn't take long for the puzzle pieces to start bleeding into a coherent picture.
"Nora, did you know Daniel took out a life insurance policy on Liam right after he was born?" Vance asked, sliding a document across the table.
I stared at the paper. It was a supplemental infant policy. The payout was half a million dollars.
"He told me it was a standard family protection plan," I whispered, my stomach turning. "He said his company offered it as a benefit. I was so exhausted, so out of it from the C-section... I just signed whatever he put in front of me."
"And look at the date of the payout," Vance pointed out. "Paid in full three months after the death certificate was issued. Because the hospital ruled it a genetic failure, there was no criminal investigation. The insurance company paid without a second thought."
"But he didn't just want the money," I muttered, a cold realization washing over me. "He wanted out. He had remarried within a year. Who did he marry, Detective?"
Vance tapped her keyboard, her eyes scanning her monitor. "A woman named Evelyn Vance—no relation to me. She’s the daughter of Arthur Vance, the CEO of the logistics firm Daniel works for. Let's look at their timeline..." She paused, her breath hitching slightly. "Nora, according to corporate records, Daniel was promoted to Vice President of the firm just six months after their marriage. And Evelyn gave birth to a child... seven months after they wed."
The room felt entirely devoid of oxygen. Daniel hadn't just been unhappy; he had been living a double life. He had knocked up the boss's daughter while I was heavily pregnant with Liam. A sick, twisted plan had formed in his mind: if he divorced me while we had a sick or living child, he would be saddled with child support, tied to a woman he wanted to discard, and his pristine, ambitious image in front of his new billionaire father-in-law would be ruined.
But a tragic, grieving father? A man whose wife had "defective genes" that broke his heart? He was a figure of pity. He could be comforted by Evelyn. He could inherit a corporate empire.
He had traded our son’s life for a corporate title and a wealthy new wife.
"We have enough for a arrest warrant," Detective Miller said, walking into the room with a grim smile. "We’re picking him up at his estate in Seattle tonight."
"I want to be there," I said instantly, standing up.
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"Nora, that's not a good idea—"
"I spent six years wishing I was dead because of his lies," I interrupted, my voice steady and terrifyingly calm. "I am going to look him in the eyes when the handcuffs go on."
