Chapter 7 - Amy's Folder.
Amy did not want to hear what was inside the folder.
Connor could see that before Betsy said another word.
Her entire body tightened as though Teresa had somehow entered the house without stepping through the door.
"What does she have?"
Connor asked the question because Amy could not.
Betsy rubbed her palms against her jeans.
"I only saw part of it."
"When?"
"At the storage unit about a month ago."
Connor stared at her.
"You were at the unit?"
"Once."
"You told me you didn't know what was there."
"I said I didn't know everything."
Connor's frustration rose.
Rachel interrupted before the argument could grow.
"What did you see in Amy's folder?"
Betsy looked at Amy.
"Printouts from social media."
Amy frowned.
"Mine?"
"Yours and people you used to work with."
"What else?"
"A copy of your old employment agreement."
Amy's eyes widened.
She had worked in marketing before Frederick was born.
The agreement had been stored in a cloud folder she shared only with Connor.
"How would she get that?"
Connor knew the answer before anyone said it.
His old laptop.
Three months earlier, Teresa had borrowed it because her computer stopped working.
Connor had created a separate user account for her.
He had not realized his browser profile still synced saved sessions.
He felt another wave of anger at his own carelessness.
Betsy continued.
"There were screenshots of messages."
"What messages?"
"Amy talking to someone named Daniel."
Amy stared at her.
Then relief and disbelief crossed her face at the same time.
"Daniel Cho?"
Betsy shrugged.
"I only saw the first name."
Amy laughed without humor.
"Daniel was my manager."
Connor remembered him.
Daniel had offered Amy freelance work several times after she left the company.
"What did the messages say?"
Betsy looked uncomfortable.
"Something about starting over."
Amy closed her eyes.
"I know exactly what that was."
She opened her phone and searched old messages.
Within a minute, she found the conversation.
Daniel had written that when Frederick started daycare, Amy could consider "starting over with a flexible client schedule."
Amy had replied that she missed working and hoped to start over professionally when life settled down.
Teresa had apparently saved only the lines containing start over.
Connor stared at the screen.
"She was going to make it look like you were leaving me."
Amy's voice was quiet.
"She already did."
She had told the family Amy was apartment hunting.
She had collected messages that could be stripped of context.
She had explored documents involving the house.
She had told Amy that Connor wanted strict financial control.
The pieces were no longer scattered.
They formed a deliberate story.
Rachel asked Betsy whether she had seen anything else.
"A printed apartment listing."
Amy looked confused.
"I never looked for an apartment."
"It had your name handwritten at the top."
Connor stood and paced toward the window.
"She didn't need Amy to actually leave."
"She just needed me to believe Amy planned to."
Rachel nodded.
"Fear makes people sign things quickly."
Connor turned back.
"Mason said she wanted me to think Amy had signed a separation agreement."
Amy folded her arms around herself.
"Then she could show you the messages and apartment page as proof."
Betsy looked horrified.
"Teresa told us she was trying to save your marriage."
Amy gave her a cold look.
"By inventing the end of it?"
No one answered.
Connor called Mason again.
This time Mason did not answer.
He sent a text instead.
I'M DONE TALKING ON THE PHONE.
Connor replied.
THEN MEET ME WITH RACHEL PRESENT.
Mason responded five minutes later with an address for a coffee shop across town.
Rachel agreed to go.
Amy wanted to come too.
Connor initially resisted because Frederick was still recovering, but Amy's sister Claire arrived to stay with the child.
At the coffee shop, Mason sat in the farthest corner wearing a baseball cap pulled low over his forehead.
He looked as though he had aged five years since the party.
Connor sat across from him.
Rachel and Amy took the adjacent chairs.
"Where is Amy's folder?"
Mason looked at the table.
"I don't know."
"Where did Teresa take everything this morning?"
"She didn't tell me."
"You helped her empty the unit."
Mason looked up sharply.
"No, I didn't."
Connor remembered the facility manager's careful wording.
The renter and an authorized guest.
He had assumed the guest was Mason.
"Then who was with her?"
Mason leaned back.
"Betsy."
Amy stared at him.
"Betsy was on our porch when the account alerts happened."
"I'm not talking about today."
"I'm talking about yesterday morning."
Connor felt the timeline shift.
Betsy had admitted visiting the storage unit once.
She had not said it was yesterday.
"Why would Betsy help her clear it?"
Mason gave a bitter smile.
"Because Aunt Teresa told her police were about to search it."
Rachel's eyes narrowed.
"Nobody had contacted the facility at that point."
"I know."
"She lied to Betsy to make her move the evidence."
Mason nodded.
"That's what she does."
Connor leaned forward.
"You keep saying that like you weren't helping her."
Mason accepted the hit.
"I was."
"Why?"
Mason looked toward Amy.
"Because she paid off six thousand dollars of my credit card debt."
Connor stared at him.
"With what money?"
Mason gave a hollow laugh.
"You really have to ask?"
The three thousand monthly transfers flashed through Connor's mind.
Money for groceries.
Money for the baby.
Money for help Amy never received.
Teresa had used his money to buy Mason's cooperation.
"What did she ask you to do?"
"Carry boxes. Print forms. Set up the private mailbox."
"Anything else?"
Mason hesitated.
"I created a document template."
Rachel leaned forward.
"What kind?"
"A separation agreement."
Amy's face went white.
Connor's hands clenched under the table.
"Did you sign Amy's name?"
"No."
"Did Teresa?"
"Not while I was there."
"Then why make it?"
Mason looked at Connor.
"She said she needed something that looked real enough to make you panic."
Connor's voice dropped.
"Where is it?"
"Probably in Amy's folder."
Rachel asked Mason to describe the document and the computer used to create it.
Mason admitted it was created on Teresa's laptop.
He also admitted sending a copy to the private mailbox email account so Teresa could print it elsewhere.
"Do you still have the email?"
Mason looked at his phone.
"Maybe."
Connor watched him search.
Then Mason froze.
"It's gone."
Rachel did not react.
"Deleted?"
"The entire mailbox account is gone."
Connor felt disappointment, but Rachel remained calm.
"That doesn't mean every record is gone."
Mason nodded slowly.
Then his phone lit up.
A new message appeared from Teresa.
Mason's face changed.
Connor noticed.
"What did she send?"
Mason turned the phone over.
"Nothing."
Amy laughed once.
"We're really doing this again?"
Mason looked at her, ashamed.
Then he turned the screen around.
It was a photograph.
Amy recognized the background immediately.
Her bedroom.
The photo showed an open dresser drawer.
Inside it lay a stack of documents bound with a red rubber band.
On top was a page bearing Amy's name.
Below the image Teresa had written one sentence.
TELL CONNOR TO STOP, OR AMY'S SECRET GOES TO EVERYONE.
Mason left the coffee shop before Connor and Amy.
He looked over his shoulder twice on the way to his truck.
Amy watched him through the window.
"Do you trust him?"
Connor considered the question.
"No."
Amy nodded.
"Neither do I."
Then Connor added, "But I believe some of what he's saying because other records match it."
That distinction mattered to both of them.
They were learning to stop sorting people into simple categories of loyal or disloyal.
Mason could have helped Teresa and still tell the truth now.
Betsy could have mistreated Amy and still provide important evidence.
Teresa could have loved Connor and still chosen actions that harmed his family.
Complexity did not excuse anyone.
It simply made the truth harder to replace with a slogan.
On the drive home, Amy opened her old chat with Daniel and scrolled farther back.
She found another message Teresa could have misused.
Daniel had once written, "If you ever need an exit from full-time mom mode, call me."
Amy had responded with laughing emojis and asked about freelance rates.
Connor shook his head.
"That's probably in the folder too."
Amy looked out the window.
"She collected a version of me I wouldn't recognize."
Connor reached for her hand but waited until she turned her palm upward.
"Then we keep the full version."
Amy squeezed his fingers.
When they reached home, Claire met them at the door with a sleeping Frederick.
She also had news.
Someone had called Amy's old office asking whether Amy had recently requested employment verification.
The caller claimed to be helping with a housing application.
Amy had requested no such verification.
Connor and Amy looked at each other.
Teresa's invented apartment story had reached beyond family gossip.
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Someone had tried to create supporting facts around it.
The House She Tried to Claim |
