Chapter 10 - Sienna’s HouseThe police told me not to go.
Leonard told me not to go.
Caleb told me I absolutely was not going.
So I went with all of them.
That was the compromise no one liked, but no one could stop. Two patrol cars led the way to Grant and Sienna’s house, Leonard following behind them, Caleb driving our SUV with me in the passenger seat. I had Grant’s last call playing over and over in my head until the words stopped sounding like words.
Mara, I’m sorry.
Crash.
Sienna.
Now you have something of mine.
Grant’s house sat in one of those neighborhoods where every lawn looked professionally intimidated into perfection. Tall brick facades. Wrought-iron porch lights. Seasonal wreaths. Windows that reflected the sky instead of revealing anything inside.
A neighbor was walking a golden retriever when the first police car stopped. She slowed down immediately, because in suburbs like that, emergency lights were practically a block party invitation.
The front door was open.
Not wide.
Just enough.
One of the officers drew his weapon.
Caleb reached for my hand.
“Stay behind me,” he said.
For once, I did.
The officers entered first.
“Police!”
No answer.
The house smelled like perfume and bleach.
Sienna’s signature white roses stood in a vase on the foyer table. Beside them lay Grant’s phone, screen cracked, still lit with my missed calls.
I saw blood on the hardwood.
Not a lot.
Enough.
My knees nearly folded.
Caleb caught me.
“Grant!” I called.
An officer shouted from upstairs.
We ran before anyone could stop us.
Grant was in the primary bedroom, sitting against the wall near the closet, one hand pressed to his forehead. Blood ran between his fingers and down the side of his face. He looked dazed, terrified, and younger than I had seen him in years.
“Sienna,” he mumbled. “She took the drive.”
“What drive?” Caleb asked.
Grant blinked at him, then at me. His eyes filled with shame.
“Dad’s copy.”
Leonard stepped into the doorway. “Where is she?”
Grant swallowed. “Gone.”
An officer knelt beside him. “Who hit you?”
Grant laughed weakly, then winced. “My wife.”
No one laughed with him.
While paramedics were called, Grant grabbed my wrist with surprising strength.
“Mara. The birthday videos. Dad recorded every party.”
“I know.”
“No. Not ours. Oliver’s. First birthday. Third birthday. Last year.” He grimaced. “Dad used toys. Different ones.”
My skin prickled.
“Why?”
“Because he knew Sienna watched the house. He knew she searched Mom’s drawers. He said nobody searches a child’s toy box unless they’re already damned.”
I stared at him.
“You knew?”
“Not all of it.”
“That’s becoming your favorite excuse.”
He flinched, and for once, I was glad.
Then his face crumpled.
“She told me if I didn’t help, Dean would ruin Mom. Then she said if I helped, we could fix everything before anyone knew. I told myself borrowing against the house wasn’t stealing if I paid it back.”
“You always tell yourself things.”
“I know.”
The admission landed between us, small and useless.
“Did you know she went to Oliver’s school?”
His eyes filled with horror. “No.”
“Did you know she put him in the ledger as an emotional trigger?”
Grant closed his eyes.
A tear slipped down his face.
“I saw that after,” he whispered.
After.
Always after.
After the loan. After the signatures. After the cake. After Oliver’s fear. Grant’s conscience always arrived late, wearing expensive shoes and asking for mercy.
The paramedics came in, and Grant released me.
Downstairs, officers searched the house. They found Sienna’s passport missing. Her jewelry drawer empty. Her laptop gone. In the garage, they found shredded documents stuffed into trash bags, still warm from the shredder.
Leonard photographed everything.
In Sienna’s home office, one wall was covered with framed certificates and minimalist art. The desk was immaculate except for a single sheet of paper placed in the center.
Mara,
Men hide crimes in ledgers.
Women hide them in families.
Ask your mother who really opened the door the night Henry collapsed.
S.
I stared at the note until the letters blurred.
Caleb read it over my shoulder.
“She’s trying to split you from Evelyn,” he said.
“Maybe.”
“No. Definitely.”
“Definitely doesn’t mean she’s lying.”
He had no answer for that.
Neither did I.
At the hospital, Grant received six stitches and a mild concussion diagnosis. An officer stayed outside his room. Whether for protection or custody, I did not ask.
Mom arrived with Ryan. The moment she saw Grant in the hospital bed, she made a wounded sound and moved toward him.
I caught her arm.
She looked at me, startled.
“Before you comfort him,” I said, “ask what he did.”
Grant stared at the blanket.
Mom’s face broke.
“My son,” she whispered. “What did you do?”
Grant covered his eyes with one hand.
“Everything,” he said.
It was the first honest answer he had given.
The officer took his statement for nearly two hours.
He admitted to the credit line. To lying about Mom’s capacity. To allowing Sienna’s mother to impersonate Mom for the listing consultation. To moving the blue cabinet to a storage unit. To discovering afterward that Sienna had moved it again. To retrieving the red ledger from her car that morning and leaving it at my house because he feared she would destroy it.
Then he said the one thing that made Leonard stop writing.
“Sienna kept a second set of records.”
Leonard looked up. “Where?”
Grant turned his head slowly toward me.
“In Oliver’s birthday videos.”
I went cold.
“How would she get those?”
Grant’s mouth trembled.
“Mom gave them to her.”
Mom staggered backward.
“No,” she whispered. “She said she was making Oliver a memory slideshow.”
Grant closed his eyes.
“She was looking for Dad’s hiding places.”
That night, after everyone else left the hospital room, Grant asked me to stay.
I almost didn’t.
But I did.
He looked smaller beneath the fluorescent light.
“Mara,” he whispered, “there’s one more thing.”
I waited.
His eyes filled again.
“The loan wasn’t for my company at first.”
My pulse slowed.
“Then what was it for?”
He turned his face toward the wall.
“Sienna said Dean had proof Dad changed his will two days before he died.”
May you like
I stopped breathing.
Grant whispered, “And that he left everything to you.”
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