“We’ve traced the number that sent you the message,” she said.

“It’s associated with a prepaid phone that was activated recently.””

“Can you identify the person who bought it?””

“Not yet. However, we found something interesting in the message history.””

I stood beside the window of the guest suite where Lily was resting.

“What?””

“Before the message to you, the phone received a photograph. The image appears to show a document with your late wife’s signature.””

My breath caught.

“Can you send it to me?””

“No. We’re preserving it as evidence. But I can tell you the document references a trust amendment dated three days before Emily’s death.””

I gripped the windowsill.

“An amendment to Lily’s trust?””

“That’s what it appears to be.””

“Did Emily sign it?””

“We haven’t verified the signature.””

I thought about the message from James. The papers he wanted me to sign. Vanessa’s plan to gain influence over Lily’s inheritance.

Everything led back to the same question.

What had Emily discovered that made my brother so desperate?

Before I could ask, Detective Collins added, “There’s one more detail. The photograph was sent from a device that had previously been associated with a phone number belonging to your late wife.””

My heart seemed to stop.

“Emily’s phone?””

“Possibly. The carrier records aren’t conclusive yet.””

“Her phone was destroyed in the accident.””

“According to the original inventory, yes.””

I looked toward the bedroom where Lily slept.

If Emily’s phone had survived, it might contain the answers we needed.

But three years had passed. The device could be anywhere.

“Detective,” I said, “what if someone has been using my wife’s phone?””

She was silent for a moment.

“Then we need to find out who.””

That night, after Lily finally fell asleep, I sat alone at the kitchen table of the temporary apartment the police had helped arrange.

My wedding ring was still in my pocket.

I placed it beside my phone and stared at it.

I had imagined wearing it for the rest of my life.

Instead, I had discovered that the woman I intended to marry had been conspiring with my brother, and the man I trusted most might have been involved in my wife’s death.

At 11:43 p.m., my phone vibrated again.

This time, the message contained a photograph.

It showed a blue document box sitting on a wooden desk.

Beside it was a woman’s hand wearing the thin silver bracelet Emily had never taken off.

The accompanying text contained only one sentence.

*If you want to know why your wife died, ask James who was driving the second car.*

I stared at the photograph until my eyes burned.

Then another message appeared.

*And Michael? The driver wasn’t your brother.*