Chapter 6 - Behind the Stars
The nursery door had been closed for three years.
I stood outside it with my hand on the knob.
For a moment, I couldn't move.
We'd decorated the room in the early years of our marriage.
Cream walls.
White furniture.
Soft curtains.
A rocking chair beside the window.
And a mural of pale gold stars above the crib.
I'd painted every star myself.
Eric helped.
We laughed when he spilled paint on the floor.
We argued over the curtains.
We talked about names.
Then our plans for children became complicated.
And eventually, painful.
We stopped using the room.
But I couldn't bring myself to dismantle it.
Eric knew that.
Of course he knew.
Now Samuel Mercer was telling me my husband might have hidden financial evidence there.
Behind a memory he knew I'd protect.
I opened the door.
The room smelled of cedar and dust.
Sunlight fell across the empty crib.
For a moment, I remembered standing there years earlier with Eric's arms around my waist.
“Our children are going to love this room,” he'd whispered.
I closed my eyes.
Then stepped inside.
Mercer had already shared his information with investigators through his attorney.
His description helped identify a concealed access panel installed during the nursery renovation.
We coordinated with Rebecca and the authorities before anything was removed.
The technician examined the wall beneath the mural.
A strip of decorative molding concealed a narrow panel.
I'd lived in that house for years.
I had no idea it existed.
When the panel was opened under supervision, a sealed plastic container was found.
Inside were accounting records.
Company correspondence.
And a small encrypted storage device.
The container was documented and secured for forensic examination.
I didn't open the files myself.
I didn't need to.
The label on the container was enough to make my knees weak.
HP ORIGINALS - E.B.
Eric Bennett.
My husband.
I stared at the empty compartment.
Then at the stars.
He hadn't simply hidden evidence in our home.
He'd hidden it inside my grief.
My father stood beside me.
“Claire?”
My voice broke.
“He knew I'd never touch this room.”
Dad looked at the wall.
Then back at me.
Tears filled his eyes.
“Sweetheart.”
I shook my head.
“I trusted him.”
Dad pulled me into his arms.
For the first time since the anniversary party, I cried without trying to stop.
Not the quiet tears I'd shed in Rebecca's office.
I cried so hard my chest hurt.
Because the affair had destroyed my trust.
The money had threatened my future.
But the nursery made me understand how little Eric respected the things I loved.
He had treated our hopes as another hiding place.
Eventually, I stepped back.
Wiped my face.
And looked around the room.
“I want this changed.”
Dad studied me.
“What?”
“When the investigation is finished, I want to turn it into something else.”
He nodded.
“Whatever you want.”
I looked at the stars.
“I don't want to erase everything.”
“Then don't.”
I took a shaky breath.
“But I don't want to live inside a room full of things that never happened.”
Dad squeezed my shoulder.
“Then we'll build something new.”
Three days later, Rebecca called me into her office.
The recovered records had produced their first important findings.
Some original accounting entries contradicted the summaries Eric and Victor had given lenders and investors.
Several payments appeared to have moved through related companies without matching the stated project expenses.
Other records suggested attempts to use my identity as a source of credit and credibility.
But one document mattered more to me than the rest.
A copy of a draft confession.
The same statement bearing my name.
And beside it, comments left during preparation.
One read:
She won't sign unless she believes Natalie is in danger.
Another:
Eric must present this as the only way to save the house.
I stared at the screen.
The threats.
The motel room.
The false pregnancy claim.
The anniversary announcement.
Everything had been designed around what they believed I would do for my family.
Rebecca watched my face.
“Claire?”
I took a breath.
“They thought I'd sacrifice myself.”
She nodded.
“That's what the records suggest.”
I looked down.
“And they were probably right.”
Rebecca didn't answer.
I continued.
“A year ago, I might've signed anything if Eric told me Natalie would be hurt otherwise.”
I closed my eyes.
“I thought loving people meant protecting them, even from the consequences of their own decisions.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Claire, that doesn't make you responsible for what they did.”
I nodded.
I understood.
But understanding didn't erase the grief.
Then Grant entered.
His face was serious.
“We located Natalie.”
I stood.
“Where?”
“She contacted Detective Bell through an attorney.”
Relief flooded me.
“Is she safe?”
“Yes.”
I exhaled.
“Thank God.”
Grant hesitated.
“Claire, she says she wasn't abducted.”
My relief disappeared.
“What?”
“She says she went to the motel voluntarily.”
I stared at him.
“Then who sent the threats?”
“Investigators are working to establish that.”
I closed my eyes.
Grant continued.
“She's admitted the anniversary announcement was planned.”
“I know.”
“Not just the affair reveal.”
I looked up.
“The entire evening.”
I felt cold.
“She says Victor promised her money if she went through with it.”
I swallowed.
“How much?”
Grant hesitated.
“One hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.”
I stared at him.
A hundred and twenty-five thousand dollars.
That was what Victor had promised my sister to help publicly destroy my marriage.
Then Grant said something worse.
“She received twenty thousand up front.”
I sat slowly.
Natalie had sold her loyalty.
Not for love.
Not for a future with Eric.
For a down payment.
And then Grant added, “There's another part of her statement.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“She says Eric wasn't planning to divorce you after the party.”
I stared.
“What?”
“He intended to reconcile with you after the scandal.”
My heartbeat slowed.
May you like
Then Grant delivered the final sentence.
“He wanted you broken enough to trust him one more time.”
