By the end of the workday, Emily was exhausted but felt a strange sense of accomplishment. Work had been a distraction, keeping her from spiraling into thoughts of James. Suddenly, Sarah burst into her office, beaming like she’d won the lottery.
“Emily, look what I got!” she said, slamming some papers onto the piano lid.
“What’s this?” Emily picked them up, confused.
“Two vouchers for a weekend at a countryside retreat,” Sarah announced proudly. “For your husband and his mom.”
“Where’d you get them?” Emily was stunned.
“Doesn’t matter,” Sarah grinned.
“But it’s too expensive,” Emily whispered, looking at the fancy logo on the vouchers. “I don’t have that kind of money to pay you back.”
“Pay me when you can,” Sarah waved it off dismissively. “It’s my gift to you. Don’t worry about the cost—Kevin wanted to help too. He knows what you’re going through.”
“I can’t accept,” Emily protested.
“Friend, you know this isn’t a problem for us,” Sarah said firmly. “When I told Kevin about your troubles, he sorted it out immediately.”
“You involved your husband?” Emily felt a flush of shame.
“Stop freaking out,” Sarah advised. “You know Kevin likes you best out of all my friends.”
Emily sighed. She knew the history well. Sarah had fallen into a bad crowd as a teenager—drugs, petty crime, the works. Thanks to their friendship, Emily had dragged Sarah out of that mess, shielding her from toxic influences until she got back on her feet. If not for Emily, Sarah might never have met Kevin or built this beautiful life. Kevin knew that, and he was fiercely loyal to his wife’s savior.
“Thank your husband for me,” Emily said, her voice thick with emotion. “I’ll pay it all back.”
“You will,” Sarah smiled, hugging her. “If not for you, I wouldn’t have Kevin or our little Olivia. I owe you for life. Now we wait for your in-laws to leave for the retreat. Then Susan’s room is ours to search.”
That evening, Emily presented the vouchers to Susan and James.
“Where’d you get the money for these?” Susan asked suspiciously, squinting at the paper as if testing for counterfeit ink.
“From the union, for James’s rehab,” Emily lied smoothly, hiding her contempt.
“At least your job’s good for something,” Susan muttered, clutching the vouchers tightly, afraid someone might snatch them away.
Saturday arrived. Emily was eager for them to leave so she and Sarah could tear the apartment apart.
“Listen carefully,” Susan said sternly, standing by the waiting taxi. “While we’re gone, do a thorough cleaning. But don’t go in my room.”
“How am I supposed to clean then?” Emily asked, feigning surprise. She had no intention of cleaning a single thing. Even if she found no evidence, she was done serving this family.
“I know you’re clumsy,” Susan waved a hand dismissively. “You’ll ruin my stuff. You’ve learned nothing in life except banging on your piano. What’d your grandma teach you?”
“Don’t you dare speak ill of my grandmother,” Emily warned, her voice dropping an octave.
She would tear anyone apart for her grandma, Margaret Evans. Emily’s parents, Rachel and David, had been geologists who were often away on expeditions. When Emily was seven, they returned with a big doll that she still kept on her shelf.
“Mom, can you stay with your granddaughter a couple more days?” Rachel asked shyly.
“It’s a joy to be with our Emily,” Margaret had smiled. “Where are you off to?”
“A friend of David’s invited us to his wedding,” Rachel explained.
That was the last time Emily saw them. Two years later, she learned the truth: they died when their cab plunged off a bridge into a river. Cruelly, the driver survived unscathed while her parents perished. Margaret had raised Emily, instilling in her the kindness that James was now exploiting.
“What’s got you riled up?” Susan muttered, stepping back from Emily cautiously.
“Alright, we’re going,” James mumbled, clearly unhappy. He didn’t want to go to a retreat for “old folks.” He had planned to tell Emily he was going fishing, a cover story for a weekend getaway with Lauren, his ex-girlfriend turned mistress. Since the accident, Lauren had been a frequent visitor, and their romance had reignited. Lauren was tired of being second fiddle to the “piano teacher,” but James was torn between Lauren’s passion and Emily’s convenient paycheck.
Michael helped James into the car, then silently walked away toward the subway. This suited Emily perfectly.
After the taxi disappeared around the corner, she returned to the apartment, grabbed her phone, and called Sarah.
“Hello, Sarah? All good,” Emily smiled. “The apartment’s ours.”
“I’ll be there soon,” Sarah replied, her voice crackling with excitement on the other end of the line.
Emily hung up and went to the kitchen to put on the kettle. Her hands trembled slightly—a mix of adrenaline and nerves. If she and Sarah got lucky today, she would be free of the Johnsons forever. She stared at the blue flame of the gas stove, willing herself to be brave.
Impatient and unable to sit still, Emily decided not to wait for Sarah. She grabbed the heavy vacuum cleaner from the hallway closet and headed straight for the forbidden zone: Susan’s room. She had decided to break Susan’s one strict rule. If the dashcam or the memory card existed, it had to be in there.
Pushing the door open, she stepped into the room that always smelled faintly of mothballs and stale perfume. She looked around, feeling like an intruder in a museum of malice.
“Okay, where to start?” she whispered to herself.
She opened the large oak wardrobe and scanned the shelves, moving piles of knitted sweaters. Nothing. She closed it and moved toward the window, setting the vacuum aside so it wouldn’t trip her up.
“What are you doing here?” a voice said from behind, startling her.
Emily paled, her heart skipping a beat. Turning slowly, she saw Michael standing in the doorway. He hadn’t gone to the subway after all.
“I… I was going to clean,” she stammered, clutching her chest. Lost in thought, she hadn’t heard the front door open or his footsteps in the hall.
“Mom told you not to touch her room,” Michael reminded her, stepping inside. His eyes were fixed on her, cold and unblinking.
“Right, forgot,” Emily forced a nervous laugh and slapped her forehead. “I’ll just go to my and James’s room then.”
She made a move to leave, but Michael didn’t budge.
“No,” he shook his head slowly. “I’ve waited too long for this moment to let it slip.”
Emily looked at him, terrified. The air in the room suddenly felt very thin. She decided to steer clear, grabbing the vacuum handle as a prop to pass him.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Michael asked quietly, stepping sideways to block her path. His voice sent chills down her spine.
“To my room,” Emily stammered, cursing herself for not waiting for Sarah. Michael wouldn’t dare try anything with a witness around.
“Your room?” Michael sneered, stepping closer. “You’ve got nothing here anymore. You’re only here because your husband allows it.”
“Deal with James, then,” Emily said quickly, holding the vacuum hose in front of her like a pathetic shield.
“Why bother with my brother when you’re right here?” Michael smirked. “You know everything in life has a price, Emily.”
He was toying with her like a cat with a trapped mouse, relishing the fear in her eyes. He’d had his eye on his brother’s wife for a long time—her vulnerability was a temptation he finally decided to indulge. If she told anyone, he’d just say she came onto him. Who would believe the “ungrateful” wife over the brother?
“What do you want?” Emily asked, playing dumb to stall for time. She prayed Sarah was driving fast.
“I think you know.” Michael took another step, cornering her against the window. He reached out, his hand hovering near her face, an unspoken threat.
Emily flinched violently from his proximity. “Don’t be stupid! I’ll tell my husband!” she threatened, her voice rising. She stepped back, hitting the windowsill.
“Seriously?” Michael laughed, a dry, rasping sound. “You think he’ll rush to defend you?”
“Yes,” Emily nodded, though her conviction was fading. “We love each other.”
“God, you’re dumber than I thought!” Michael wiped tears of laughter from his eyes. “He doesn’t love you. You’re just free labor to him, plus you pay for his whims.”
“What are you talking about?” Emily frowned, confusion momentarily overriding her fear.
“Your precious husband isn’t disabled,” Michael blurted out, enjoying the look of shock on her face. He used the information like a knife, twisting it. “He recovered from the accident long ago. He walks just fine when you aren’t looking.”
“Recovered?” Emily whispered. The room spun. How had she missed this? Was she so blinded by guilt? Why hadn’t James told her? Why lie about his condition and blame her every single day?
“The hospital records are in Mom’s room. I can show you,” Michael said, slowly advancing again. “Plus, our James rekindled things with Lauren. You’re the laughingstock of this family.”
“What Lauren?” Emily repeated, though the name landed like a punch to the gut. She knew exactly who. Susan had drilled into her for years that Emily was no match for James’s ex.
“Don’t play dumb,” Michael snapped, his patience snapping. He was done with the chatter.
Suddenly, he yanked the vacuum from her hands and tossed it aside with a loud crash. He grabbed her arm tightly, pinning her against the wall so she couldn’t move.
Emily screamed in pure terror. Michael tried to cover her mouth with his hand. She jerked her head away, biting his finger.