Chapter 4 - The Storage Unit
The storage unit contained a life my husband had never told me existed.
There were boxes stacked three high.
Old bank statements.
Business files.
Tax records.
Photocopies of identification documents.
And in the center of the unit sat a black metal filing cabinet with a padlock.
Robert's key opened it.
I stood beside Dad while Ethan pulled out the first drawer.
Inside were envelopes.
One was labeled Ethan.
Another Camila.
Another Michael Carter.
My heart stopped.
Dad's hand closed around my shoulder.
“Don't touch that one yet.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because we don't know what it contains.”
Robert stood in the corner.
“I do.”
Dad turned.
“You've known?”
Robert looked down.
“Some of it.”
“That isn't enough.”
“I was afraid.”
The confession came out quietly.
Not defensively.
Just honestly.
It made me angrier.
“Afraid of what?”
“Losing my house.”
I stared at him.
“You let her do this because you were afraid she'd leave you?”
Robert shook his head.
“She had already threatened to.”
Ethan stepped toward him.
“Dad.”
Robert looked at his son.
“Your mother borrowed money from people she shouldn't have.”
“What people?”
“Private lenders.”
“For what?”
“Real estate.”
“How much?”
Robert's eyes filled with shame.
“More than I could cover.”
Dad said, “And you used Ethan's name.”
Robert shook his head.
“Not at first.”
That single sentence made my blood run cold.
“Whose name did she use?”
“Mine.”
Ethan whispered, “What happened?”
“She couldn't get another loan.”
Robert looked at me.
“Then she started using yours.”
He pointed to the files.
“I thought it would be temporary.”
I looked at the envelope with my name.
“What about me?”
Robert didn't answer.
I opened it.
Inside were copies of my driver's license.
Social security forms.
Bank statements.
Employment records.
I couldn't breathe.
“How did she get these?”
Robert looked away.
“Mail.”
I stared at him.
“You opened my mail?”
“No.”
“Who did?”
“She did.”
Ethan's face twisted.
“Mom?”
Robert nodded.
“She'd take the mail from the box before anyone else got home.”
I looked at the papers.
Months of my life.
Reduced to photocopies in a storage unit.
Dad gently took the envelope from me.
Then he opened the one labeled Michael Carter.
His face became unreadable.
There were no bank statements.
No financial records.
Only photographs.
My father's public appearances.
His home from a distance.
His office.
His vehicle.
His schedule.
My pulse raced.
Dad flipped to the final page.
A printed profile.
General Michael Carter.
Family relationships.
Known residences.
Frequent travel.
Public events.
Under "Known vulnerabilities" was one sentence.
Daughter.
I felt sick.
Dad closed the file.
“Who created this?”
Robert whispered, “I don't know.”
Ethan slammed the cabinet shut.
“You knew my mother was stalking my father-in-law?”
“I didn't know that.”
“You said you knew some of it!”
“I knew she kept files!”
“What did you think they were?”
“I thought she was keeping records for the lenders.”
Ethan stared at him in disbelief.
Then a tiny red light began blinking in the corner of the storage unit.
Dad noticed it first.
“What's that?”
Robert frowned.
“I've never seen it.”
He walked over.
It was attached beneath a shelf.
A security camera.
My heart began pounding.
“That's not yours?”
Robert shook his head.
“No.”
Ethan reached for it.
Dad stopped him.
“Don't touch it.”
Dad pulled out his phone.
He took photographs.
Then he stepped outside and made a call.
I stood beside Ethan.
“Were we being watched?”
“I don't know.”
“You should have known.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
I looked at him.
“How much did you know?”
He didn't answer.
“Ethan.”
He sat on the concrete floor.
“I knew Mom was angry about the SUV.”
“That's not what I asked.”
“I knew she wanted control.”
“Did you know about the guardianship papers?”
“I knew she wanted me to sign something.”
“Did you sign?”
“Yes.”
My chest tightened.
“Why?”
“She told me it was a temporary financial authorization.”
“You didn't read it.”
“No.”
“You gave her another blank check.”
“I made a mistake.”
“You made several.”
He looked at me.
“I know.”
Dad returned.
“The camera connects to a private system.”
“Can you trace it?”
“I've asked someone who can.”
Robert suddenly spoke.
“There was something else.”
Everyone turned.
He looked terrified.
“Your mother received a package three weeks ago.”
“What package?” Ethan asked.
“A brown envelope.”
“Where did it come from?”
Robert shook his head.
“I don't know.”
“What was inside?”
“She told me it was a final warning.”
Dad frowned.
“From whom?”
“I don't know.”
Robert reached into his wallet.
He took out a photograph.
I recognized the man immediately.
It was Ethan's former boss, David Mercer.
But he wasn't standing in front of his office.
He was standing beside Diane.
They were shaking hands.
I stared.
“David told us today he barely knew her.”
Robert shook his head.
“They met twice.”
“Why?”
“Your mother said he owed her money.”
Ethan stood.
“My mother was blackmailing him?”
Robert didn't answer.
Then my phone rang.
It was Leah Brooks.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?”
“Camila?”
“Yes.”
Her breathing was uneven.
“You found the storage unit.”
I froze.
“How do you know?”
“Because Diane called me twenty minutes ago.”
“What did she say?”
“She told me to stop helping you.”
“Why?”
“Because she said your father had made a mistake.”
My father took the phone.
“What mistake?”
Leah went silent.
Then she said:
“He doesn't know who he's fighting.”
Dad looked at me.
“What does that mean?”
“I don't know,” she said. “But Diane isn't working alone.”
Before the call ended, Leah whispered one more sentence.
“Check the signature on the guardianship agreement.”
Dad stiffened.
“We already know it's forged.”
“No,” Leah said.
“You don't understand.”
“What?”
“The signature isn't the important part.”
The line went dead.
We all stood in silence.
Then Ethan looked toward the filing cabinet.
“What is?”
Dad opened the guardianship file again.
I looked closer.
There was a witness signature on the last page.
Robert Harrison.
May you like
My father-in-law stared at his own name.
“I never signed that.”
