“Read this before you unpack,” she whispered. “And don’t tell my son.”
“What is this?” I asked, suddenly uneasy.
“Shh.” She glanced toward the garage and pressed a finger to her lips. “Just trust me. I’ll keep him busy as long as I can.”
Before I could ask another question, she turned and walked away, her voice instantly shifting into cheerful warmth as she greeted Benjamin outside.
I stood frozen, the envelope trembling in my hands.
I didn’t overthink it. I just opened it.
Inside was a single sheet of paper. No greeting. No explanation.
Only instructions.
Open the bottom drawer of Benjamin’s desk. Find the manila folder. He keeps it with the house paperwork because it makes him feel organized. Look at the bank statements. Look at the withdrawals. Pay attention to what repeats.
My heart began to pound.
