Chapter 7
I read the letter.
My hands were shaking.
*Alexander,*
*If you're reading this, I'm in prison. And I deserve to be. I've done terrible things. To you. To your family. To everyone who ever trusted me. But there's one thing I need you to know. One secret I've been carrying for three years.*
*Your wife didn't die in a car accident.*
*She was murdered.*
*And Chloe was responsible.*
I stopped reading.
My wife.
Elena.
The love of my life.
The mother of my children.
She'd died three years ago.
A car accident.
The police had said it was a tragic accident.
She'd lost control of her car on a rainy night.
She'd hit a tree.
She'd died instantly.
But Richard was saying it wasn't an accident.
He was saying Chloe had murdered her.
I kept reading.
*Chloe found out about your wife. She knew Elena would never let you go. She knew she could never have you or your money as long as Elena was alive. So she arranged the accident. She tampered with the brakes on Elena's car. She paid someone to make it look like an accident.*
*I found out six months ago. I should have told you. I should have gone to the police. But I was weak. I was involved with Chloe. And she threatened me. She said if I told anyone, she'd say I was involved too. That I'd helped her. I'm sorry, Alexander. I'm so sorry. I was your friend. And I betrayed you. In every way possible.*
*The key is to a safety deposit box. At the downtown bank. Inside is everything. The evidence. The proof. Chloe's confession. The payment records. Everything you need to convict her. It's the least I can do. To try to make amends.*
*I'm sorry.*
*Richard*
I stared at the letter.
Elena had been murdered.
By Chloe.
Three years ago.
I'd brought the woman who murdered my wife into our home.
Into my daughters' lives.
I'd almost married her.
I felt sick.
I dropped to my knees.
Marisol knelt beside me.
"Alexander?" she said. "What is it?"
I handed her the letter.
She read it.
Her hand went to her mouth.
"Oh my God," she whispered.
The police reopened the case immediately.
We went to the bank.
We opened the safety deposit box.
And inside was everything Richard had promised.
Chloe's journal.
Where she'd written about planning the murder.
About her obsession with me.
About her hatred of Elena.
Bank records showing payments to the man who'd tampered with the brakes.
A recording of Chloe admitting what she'd done.
Boasting about it.
Telling Richard how easy it had been.
How no one would ever suspect.
The evidence was overwhelming.
Chloe was charged with first-degree murder.
Richard, in exchange for his testimony and the evidence, was given a reduced sentence.
He'd still spend twenty years in prison.
But he'd helped bring Elena's killer to justice.
The trial was quick.
The evidence was irrefutable.
Chloe was found guilty.
She was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.
She would never hurt anyone again.
As the judge pronounced the sentence, Chloe looked at me.
Her face was full of rage.
But I didn't care.
I felt nothing.
She was nothing to me.
Less than nothing.
After the trial, we went to Elena's grave.
I brought the girls.
Marisol came with us.
We brought flowers.
White roses.
Her favorite.
I told the girls the truth.
That their mother's death hadn't been an accident.
That the bad woman had hurt her.
But that the bad woman was gone now.
That she could never hurt anyone again.
Valeria cried.
Sofia held her rabbit tightly.
But they were brave.
Just like their mother.
"Mommy is safe now," Valeria said. "She knows the bad woman can't hurt her anymore."
I held my daughters.
And I looked at Marisol.
She was standing back.
Giving us space.
Tears in her eyes.
I reached out and took her hand.
She squeezed mine.
And I knew.
Elena would have wanted me to be happy.
She would have wanted the girls to have a mother figure.
Someone who loved them.
Someone who would protect them.
Someone like Marisol.
That night, I asked Marisol to stay.
Not as an employee.
But as something more.
"Stay," I said. "I love you. The girls love you. We need you. Don't go."
She looked at me.
Tears in her eyes.
"I love you too," she said. "And I love those girls more than anything. I'll stay. Forever."
I kissed her.
Softly.
Gently.
And for the first time since Elena died, I felt whole.
The next few months were the happiest we'd had in years.
We healed.
Together.
As a family.
Marisol moved into the master bedroom.
The girls called her "Mommy Marisol."
It wasn't the same as their real mother.
And it never would be.
But it was good.
It was loving.
It was ours.
We sold the old estate.
Too many bad memories.
Too much pain.
We bought a new house.
Smaller.
Warmer.
Full of light and laughter.
We built new memories.
New traditions.
A new life.
And then one day, six months after Chloe was sentenced, we got a letter.
From an attorney.
Addressed to the girls.
It was from Elena.
Written before she died.
And she'd left instructions.
If anything ever happened to her, this letter should be given to the girls.
On Sofia's tenth birthday.
But the attorney had found us.
And he thought we should have it now.
I opened it.
And I read Elena's words to my daughters.
And there was something else in the envelope.
May you like
Something that would change our lives again.
One last gift from Elena.
