Chapter 8: The Name My Wife Buried
I didn't ask Renata immediately.
That was the worst part.
I wanted to.
The question sat on my tongue the entire drive home.
Daniel Cross.
The name followed me everywhere.
But I had learned something about secrets.
Sometimes the truth isn't the thing that destroys people.
Sometimes it's the waiting.
That night, after Milo fell asleep, I sat beside Renata.
She knew.
She always knew.
"What did she say?""
I looked at her.
"Who?""
"My mother.""
I didn't answer.
Renata sighed.
"She told you something about me.""
The sadness in her voice hurt.
"Why do you always assume that?""
"Because that's what she does.""
I looked down.
"Daniel Cross.""
The room went still.
Renata closed her eyes.
And my heart sank.
Because she knew the name.
"Who is he?""
She didn't answer.
"Renata.""
"I was hoping I would never have to explain this.""
Those words scared me.
"Why?""
"Because I knew what it would look like.""
"What would it look like?""
"Like I hid something from you.""
I waited.
She took a breath.
"Before I met you, I worked for Daniel.""
"Doing what?""
"Administrative work.""
"Just that?""
Her eyes met mine.
"Yes.""
I believed her.
But I needed the whole story.
"What happened?""
Renata looked away.
"Daniel was my boss.""
"And?""
"He was abusive.""
My expression changed.
"Abusive how?""
"He controlled everything.""
Her voice became quiet.
"My hours. My phone. Who I talked to.""
I felt anger rise.
"Did he hurt you?""
"Not physically.""
She paused.
"But he tried to ruin my life when I left.""
I sat closer.
"What does this have to do with my mother?""
Renata looked at me.
"Your mother knew him.""
The room became silent.
"What?""
"She met him before.""
"How?""
"I don't know.""
I shook my head.
"That doesn't make sense.""
Renata reached for her phone.
"I kept something.""
She opened an old folder.
Inside were emails.
Messages.
Documents.
"I never showed you because I was ashamed.""
I read the first email.
The sender was Daniel.
The message was threatening.
*You think you can walk away after everything I did for you?*
My stomach turned.
"Why didn't you report him?""
"I tried.""
"And?""
"He knew people.""
She looked at me.
"He knew how to make me look unstable.""
The same word.
The same tactic.
My mother.
I looked through the documents.
Then I saw something.
An email copied to another address.
My mother's address.
I stared.
"Renata.""
She went pale.
"I know.""
"You knew?""
"I found it years later.""
My hands shook.
"My mother was involved?""
"I don't know.""
"Renata.""
She grabbed my hand.
"I don't know if she helped him or if she was just communicating with him.""
I looked at the email.
The date.
Two months before our wedding.
My mother and Daniel had been talking.
About Renata.
I felt sick.
I called my mother.
She answered quickly.
"What now?""
Her voice was irritated.
"Why were you talking to Daniel Cross?""
Silence.
A long one.
Then:
"Who told you that?""
I closed my eyes.
"Answer me.""
"Marcus, you don't understand.""
"Then explain.""
She didn't.
And that was enough.
"You knew what he did.""
"He was misunderstood.""
I froze.
"What?""
"He was under pressure.""
"Renata was being threatened.""
"Renata exaggerates.""
I stood up.
"No.""
My voice shook.
"Not again.""
My mother became quiet.
Then she said:
"She has always been good at playing the victim.""
I ended the call.
I couldn't listen anymore.
The next morning, I went to Diane.
I showed her the emails.
Her face changed immediately.
"Marcus...""
"What?""
She looked terrified.
"Your mother didn't just know Daniel.""
"What?""
Diane swallowed.
"She introduced him to your father years ago.""
I stared.
"Why?""
"Because Daniel worked with financial records.""
My stomach dropped.
"The money.""
Diane nodded.
"The missing money.""
Everything connected.
My mother.
The accounts.
My father.
Daniel.
Renata.
It was all part of the same pattern.
But before I could process it, Diane received a call.
She looked at the screen.
Then her face went white.
"What?""
She handed me the phone.
It was a message.
From an unknown number.
A photo.
Of my house.
Taken that morning.
Underneath it were four words.
*Stop digging, Marcus.*
I looked outside.
A car was parked across the street.
Watching.
And then my phone rang.
May you like
This time, it wasn't my mother.
It was the police.
