Chapter 2: The Man Who Was Supposed to Be Gone
I sat in that Range Rover for ten seconds without breathing.
The man standing at that steel door was Daniel Marsh — Wendy's brother.
Jessi's uncle.
The man whose funeral I had attended.
Whose grave I had stood beside while Jessi wept into my shoulder.
He was thinner.
His hair was grey.
But it was him.
And he was crouching down, arms open, while my daughter ran straight to him.
Fiona knew him.
She wasn't afraid of him.
She was happy to see him.
That was almost worse.
I called Jessi.
Straight to voicemail.
I called again.
Nothing.
I got out of the car and walked toward the building.
Before I reached the door, Wendy turned and saw me.
Her face didn't show guilt.
It showed calculation.
"You were supposed to be on a plane," she said.
"Who is that man, Wendy?"
She stepped slightly to the left — positioning herself between me and the door.
"This isn't what you think."
"Then explain it."
She glanced back toward the building.
"Not here."
"Right here.
Right now."
She lowered her voice.
"Daniel never d*ed.
We faked it to protect him.
Jessi knows.
She has always known."
The ground felt unsteady beneath me.
"Protect him from what?"
Wendy looked at me for a long moment.
Then she said four words that made everything I thought I knew about my marriage collapse.
"Protect him from you."
---
What did Daniel do — and why has Jessi been lying for eight years?
The full truth is darker than you expect.
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