“He chose this,” she replied softly, reaching beneath her pillow to produce an aged, yellowed envelope. “Caleb warned me you’d be left with unanswered questions. He wanted you to have the complete truth.”
She handed me the envelope. Inside was a short note written in a faint, unsteady hand—penned by her late father years before.
Emily,
If anything should happen to me, understand this: the man who aided us bore no responsibility for what occurred at the lake. His name was David. He tried to protect us.
My hands shook as I read my husband’s name. “What actually happened at the lake that night?” I asked.
Emily kept her eyes on the floor as she spoke. “I was only six years old. My heart condition had suddenly deteriorated, and my family was in financial distress. Your husband, David, had stepped in to help us find a medical specialist. But my father had also taken loans from dangerous people to cover my care.”
She took a deep breath before continuing. “That night, your husband met my father near the lake road to convince him to take us somewhere safe. While they were talking, another car pulled up—the vehicle mentioned in the old police report. A confrontation started.”
“And then?”
