CHAPTER 5
The next three weeks were the longest of my life.
We moved the girls into Rose’s old room. We bought three mattresses and pushed them together on the floor. April said it was like a giant sleepover. Rachel drew pictures on notebook paper and taped them to the walls. Lucy organized everything—school supplies, clothes, the hidden evidence.
She was the one who kept us going. Every morning, she woke up at six, made breakfast for her sisters, packed their lunches, and got them ready for school. She did not complain. She did not cry. She moved through each day with a single purpose.
Arthur called every day. Sometimes twice. Sometimes in the middle of the night.
He alternated between threats and sweetness.
One call: “You’re making a huge mistake, Charles. I’ll ruin you.”
The next: “I just want what’s best for my daughters. Can’t we put this behind us?”
I never let him speak to the girls.
His lawyer sent letters. Formal, terrifying letters full of words like “custody petition” and “interference with parental rights” and “contempt of court.”
I called a lawyer myself. An old friend from high school who had become a family law attorney. He looked at the evidence—at the notebook, at the recordings—and went pale.
“Charles,” he said, “this is... this is beyond custody. If what this says is true, we’re looking at murder. Premeditated murder. But we can’t just go to the police. Not yet. Arthur is right—he does have connections. The chief of police was his fraternity brother in college. The mayor was at their wedding. If we show our hand too early, they’ll bury this so deep no one will ever find it.”
“So what do we do?” I asked.
He leaned forward across his desk. “We wait. We let Arthur think he’s winning. We let him plan his wedding. Let him spend all that money, invite all those people, make all those speeches about what a devoted husband and father he is. And then, on his wedding day... we drop everything. All at once. To everyone. The police. The press. Every single guest. We make sure there’s no way to sweep it under the rug.”
It was exactly what Rose had written.
We started preparing.
Lucy worked on the timeline. She cross-referenced every entry in the notebook with dates on the recordings. She made a spreadsheet—twelve years old and already organizing evidence like a professional investigator.
Rachel went through the recordings. There were over forty hours of audio. She listened to every minute, marking the most damning parts with timestamps. She never flinched, even when she heard her father screaming at her mother, even when he said things no child should ever hear.
April was our secret weapon. She carried the final envelope everywhere. In her backpack, in her pocket, under her pillow at night. She did not know what was inside. Rose had told her only that it was “the magic paper that makes everything better.” She guarded it like a dragon with gold.
And me? I spent my days at the library—my old workplace—printing copies. So many copies. I made three complete sets of everything. I mailed one set to a trusted cousin in another state. I buried one set in a waterproof box in Rose’s favorite spot in the backyard. I kept one set with me, hidden in the lining of my old army jacket.
The wedding was scheduled for a Saturday at four o’clock in the afternoon at the most expensive country club in Savannah. Two hundred guests. Open bar. Five-tier cake. Crystal had posted the registry online—china, silver, a honeymoon to Bora Bora that cost more than I made in two years.
The invitations had gone out the week after Rose’s funeral.
The social media posts were worse. Arthur had created a whole narrative. Grieving widower. Broken-hearted father. Found love again when he least expected it. Crystal was portrayed as an angel who had stepped in to “save” him from his despair.
The comments were full of people saying what a beautiful love story it was. How romantic. How life-affirming.
Lucy read every single one. She printed them out and taped them to the back of her closet door.
“Let them say what they want,” she would say, her voice cold. “They’ll find out soon enough.”
Three days before the wedding, Arthur showed up at my house again. This time, he brought Crystal with him.
She was exactly as I had imagined. Twenty-eight years old, bottle-blonde hair, fake tan, nails so long they looked dangerous. She wore a white dress and diamond earrings that had belonged to Rose—Rose’s grandmother’s earrings, the ones she had promised to Lucy on her twelfth birthday.
Crystal smiled at me like we were old friends. “Charles! It’s so wonderful to finally meet you properly. Arthur has told me so much about you.”
She held out her hand. I did not take it.
Arthur pushed past me into the house. “We came to get the girls. They’re in the wedding, of course. Flower girls and junior bridesmaid. Crystal picked out their dresses. They’re going to look adorable.”
Lucy came down the stairs. She was wearing jeans and an old t-shirt. She stopped when she saw them.
“Lucy, sweetheart!” Crystal’s voice was like nails on a chalkboard. “There you are! Come see your dress! It’s pink with so much tulle you won’t believe it!”
Lucy walked slowly down the stairs. She stopped in front of Crystal. Her eyes went straight to the earrings.
“Those were my mother’s,” she said quietly.
Crystal’s hand flew to her earlobes. She laughed nervously. “Oh, these? Arthur gave them to me. Said they were... unused. Just sitting in a box.”
Lucy looked at her father. “They were her mother’s. She wore them every Christmas. Every birthday. She told me I would get them when I turned sixteen.”
Arthur’s face darkened. “Lucy, that’s enough. Things change. Your mother is gone. Crystal is going to be your stepmother now. You will show her respect.”
April came running into the room, followed by Rachel. April stopped when she saw the strangers. She grabbed Lucy’s hand.
“Who are they?” she asked loudly.
Crystal knelt down, trying to smile. “Hi, April! I’m Crystal. I’m going to be your new mommy!”
April pulled back as if she had been burned. “I already have a mommy.”
Crystal’s smile faltered. “Well... of course you do, sweetie. But she’s... she’s an angel in heaven now. And I’m here to take care of you down here.”
April looked her up and down. “You’re not my mommy. My mommy was pretty. You look like a plastic banana.”
Rachel snickered. Lucy did not smile. She just kept watching.
Arthur’s face turned red. “That’s it! I’ve had enough of this disrespect! You girls are coming with us right now. You will be in this wedding, and you will behave, or so help me—”
“Or what?” I stepped between him and the girls. “You’ll drug us too? Like you drugged Rose?”
The room went dead silent.
Arthur’s eyes widened. For the first time, I saw real fear in his face.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said, but his voice shook.
“Sure you do,” I said. “And you’re going to find out exactly how much I know. On Saturday. At four o’clock. Right in the middle of your perfect little wedding.”
I walked to the door and held it open.
“Get out of my house. And don’t come back until you’re ready to answer for what you did.”
May you like
Arthur stood frozen for a long moment. Then he grabbed Crystal’s arm and practically dragged her out the door. He did not say another word. But as he got into his car, he looked back at the house. And I knew.
The game was on.
