Chapter 4: What Marcus Had Been Carrying
We waited until Timmy was asleep.
My younger son, Patrick, sat with his wife, Claire, at the far end of the kitchen table.
They'd been told enough to stay.
Not enough to understand why.
Claire had made tea that nobody touched.
Nadia sat beside Marcus.
She'd changed into a long-sleeved shirt — an old habit, I understood now — and she held her mug in both hands without drinking from it.
I sat across from them.
My husband, Frank, was beside me.
He'd been quiet since I'd pulled him aside on the beach and told him in four sentences what I knew.
He'd gone very still in the way he does when he's deciding not to say the first thing that comes to mind.
"Tell me the rest," I said.
Marcus looked at Nadia.
She gave a small nod.
"Daniel didn't stop when she ended it," Marcus said.
"He followed her.
For months.
He'd show up outside her work, outside her gym.
He sent messages — hundreds of them.
Some of them were — they weren't normal messages, Mum.
They were threats."
"What kind of threats?"
"That if she told anyone, he'd make sure no one believed her.
That he had things — photos, messages she'd sent him when they were together — that he'd use them.
That he'd go to her employer." Marcus's hand was flat on the table.
"He told her that if she married me, he'd find a way to end it."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"She has screenshots," Marcus said.
"Hundreds of them.
She kept everything."
"Why didn't you come to us?" Frank said.
It was the first thing he'd said since we sat down.
His voice was steady but his hands weren't.
Nadia looked at him.
"I was ashamed," she said.
"I know that doesn't make sense.
I know it wasn't my fault — I know that up here." She touched her temple.
"But shame doesn't listen to what you know.
It just sits there."
Frank nodded slowly.
He didn't say anything else.
He didn't need to.
"There's one more thing," Marcus said.
I waited.
"Daniel knows where we are this week.
I don't know how.
I didn't tell him.
Nadia didn't tell him.
But he sent her a message yesterday morning." He reached into his pocket and put his phone on the table, screen up.
"While we were on the beach."
I looked at the screen.
The message was short.
*Enjoy the coast.
I'll see you at the wedding.*
Patrick made a sound.
Claire put her hand over her mouth.
"He's been watching her location somehow," Marcus said.
"Or someone told him.
I don't know which."
I looked at the timestamp on the message.
Yesterday.
While we were all sitting in the sun thinking we were celebrating.
"Right," I said.
I stood up.
"Patrick, I need your laptop.
Frank, I need the name of the solicitor you used for the property dispute — the one who was sharp.
And Nadia—" I waited until she looked at me.
"I need you to send me every single screenshot you have.
Every one.
Tonight."
"What are you going to do?" she asked.
"I'm going to make sure he doesn't get within a hundred metres of that wedding," I said.
"And then I'm going to make sure he doesn't do this to anyone else."
Daniel's message was still glowing on the table between us.
May you like
*I'll see you at the wedding.*
He had no idea what was waiting for him when he got there.
