She began crying.
My anger vanished.
“Sweetheart.”
“He came into our room.”
“When?”
“Thanksgiving.”
“What do you mean?”
“At your house. Grace and I were downstairs helping Grandma. I came upstairs because I forgot my charger.”
Her voice shook.
“Nathan was in our room. He was opening drawers.”
I closed my eyes.
“What did he say?”
“He said he was looking for Christmas wrapping paper.”
“There isn’t wrapping paper in your room.”
“I know.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I did.”
I frowned.
“When?”
“I told him I was going to tell you.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“And?”
“He said you were under a lot of pressure and that if I kept trying to make trouble, you might think I didn’t want you to be happy.”
I could barely breathe.
“He said maybe college had made me possessive.”
Ben looked away.
Lily continued.
“Then he hugged me.”
A sob broke through her voice.
“I hated it.”
I pressed my knuckles against my mouth.
“He said, ‘Your mom finally has someone taking care of her. Don’t ruin that because you’re scared of change.’”
I shut my eyes.
Manipulation was ugly when you finally saw the machinery.
Every phrase polished.
Every weakness calculated.
“What was he looking for?”
“I don’t know.”
Then Lily hesitated.
“Actually…”
“What?”
“Maybe I do.”
I looked at Ben.
Lily said, “Do you remember Aunt Melissa’s cedar box?”
I did.
A small handcrafted box with a brass clasp.
Melissa used to keep photographs and old letters inside.
“When Grace and I turned eighteen, you gave us some of Mom’s things.”
“Yes.”
“The box had a false bottom.”
I stood up.
“What?”
“We found it last year.”
“What was inside?”
“A flash drive.”
The room went silent.
Ben slowly closed his laptop.
“Where is it now?” I asked.
“With Grace.”
“Have you opened it?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“It’s encrypted.”
My mouth went dry.
“Does Nathan know?”
“I don’t think so.”
Ben whispered, “That might be what he was searching for.”
Suddenly the words from the phone call returned.
