"Please let me say goodbye to the kids."
I believed her.
That made it worse.
I pointed at the door. "Leave."
She stared at me. "Please let me say goodbye to the kids."
"No."
"Emily, please."
"If you are still here when they come back, I will call the police before you reach the porch."
Then police found traffic footage of his truck behind Liam's car minutes before the crash.
She left.
The next morning I took everything to an attorney Liam had already contacted. That hurt in its own way. He had known enough to prepare for not coming home.
The legal part moved fast after that. The attorney helped lock everything down and recover part of the money from Grace's share of our mother's estate. The recording was not the whole case, but it confirmed what Liam's notes and the bank records already showed.
Ryan ran for a while.
Then police found traffic footage of his truck behind Liam's car minutes before the crash. Later, paint transfer from Liam's rear panel matched Ryan's bumper. It had looked like a wet-road accident because that was exactly what Ryan wanted it to look like.
Then I opened the box.
Two weeks later, Grace came to my house in the rain.
She held a cashier's check in one hand and a box in the other.
"This is the first repayment," she said.
I took the check.
Then I opened the box.
Inside was Liam's watch, a tie clip, and a few other small things. She had helped me pack his belongings two days after the funeral. I hadn't even noticed what was missing.
Then I opened the box.
My throat tightened. "You took these?"
She nodded. "I wanted something of his."
"Why?"
Her eyes filled. "Because he was the only person brave enough to stop me."
I stared at her for a long time.
Then I said, quietly, "You don't get to grieve him like you didn't help break what he was trying to protect."
She closed her eyes and nodded.
The kids still asked questions I couldn't fully answer.
She didn't ask for forgiveness.
Months passed.
I stopped sleeping on Liam's side of the bed.
I folded his sweatshirt and put it away.
The kids still asked questions I couldn't fully answer.
One night Ava asked, "Did Daddy know we loved him?"
"Every day," I said.
