Chapter 4

I didn't say a word but walked on.

I walked into the lobby, took the elevator to the 21st floor, and then climbed the stairs to the 22nd. The door to 2203 was sealed with police tape.

I stood outside, not stepping inside.

At the end of the hallway, a cleaning lady was mopping the floor. She paused when she saw me, looking a bit surprised. "Are you a resident here?"

"No, my friend lives here," I replied. "Have you noticed anything unusual on the 22nd floor at night?"

The cleaning lady glanced around, then lowered her voice. "Yeah, two nights ago I was working the night shift up here. Around midnight, I heard a fight coming from 2203."

"What were they fighting about?"

"I couldn't make out the details. I caught the woman yelling, 'You dare,' and then everything went quiet."

"What happened next?"

"About half an hour later, there was a big bang. I thought it was some construction downstairs, so I didn't think much of it. It wasn't until the next day that I realized someone had jumped off the building."

I thanked her and went downstairs.

Standing at the entrance, I pulled out my phone, scrolled through my contacts, and found the number of Richard.

His number wasn't saved. Still, I remembered it. Three years ago, he wanted to force me to sign a waiver giving up my inheritance rights. But I refused.

He slammed the table and yelled, "If you don't sign, you'll never get into the Grant family again."

Back then, I said one thing. "Richard, I'm already in."

Thinking about it now, Richard had way too many secrets waiting to be dug up.

I dialed William's number. "William, I need you to look into two people for me."

"Who?" William asked.

"Richard Grant, Michael's father. And Linda Grant, Michael's sister."

"What exactly do you want me to look into?"

"Check all their bank transactions, any properties under their names, and whether they've got any children outside the family."

There was a brief silence on the other end. "Emily, are you going after the whole Grant family?"

"I'm not out to go after anyone," I said. "I just want to see how much they've been hiding from me all these years."

After hanging up, I headed home.

At nine that night, Linda called me. She sounded pissed. "Emily, come to the hospital tomorrow and take Mom home."

"Take her where?" I asked.

"Where else do you think she can go? You want to leave an old lady like her out on the street?"

"Isn't she living at Michael's place?"

Linda went quiet for a moment. "Michael's place... Tomorrow, you go and transfer that house. Mom's moving in with you."

I couldn't help but laugh. "Linda, let's get one thing straight. That house is under my name."

"You—"

"Your dad has an old house, and you have two. Why don't you let your mom stay at your place?"

"Emily, what are you trying to say?"

"I mean, don't dump your mom on me."

I hung up and turned off the phone. That night, I slept well.

The next morning, I turned my phone back on.

Linda had sent me seventeen messages, all of them filled with insults.

I didn't bother to read them. I deleted them all.

In the afternoon, I went to the hospital.

Michael had already been moved to a regular ward. When I walked in, he was sitting up in bed, staring out the window.

He turned his head when he heard my footsteps. When he saw it was me, his eyes flashed for a second. "You're here."

I nodded, took a seat by the bed, and poured Michael a glass of water. "The doctor said you can go home tomorrow."

Michael nodded. After a moment of silence, Michael finally spoke up, "I'm sorry about that night."

"Which night?"

"The night I took the pills."

I took a sip of water. "No big deal. It was the doctors who saved you, not me."

Michael paused, caught off guard for a moment. "Emily, I know you're still mad at me."

"I'm not mad."

"Then," Michael looked at me, hesitating. "Do you still care about me?"

I set the glass down and looked at him. "Michael, do you want the truth?"

He nodded.

"Olivia's dead," I said quietly.

Michael's face visibly lost all color. "I didn't—"

"Don't bother. I know exactly who she is," I cut him off. "I know you've been with her for six years. I know you send her 10 thousand dollars every month for living expenses, and another 5 thousand dollars for her rent."

Michael's lips started to tremble.

"I know the house at Emerald Bay was bought with company money and registered under your dad's name," I continued.

"Emily—" Michael started to say.

"And I also know," I said, my voice steady and deliberate as I looked at him, "that you went to see her the night she died."

The room was dead silent. All that could be heard was the hum of the air conditioner.

"You... how did you find out?" Michael stammered.

"It doesn't matter how I know," I said. "What matters is whether the police know."

Michael suddenly grabbed my wrist. "Emily, listen to me."

"I'm listening."

Michael started to say something, but closed his mouth again. He tried again to speak. "Olivia did it herself."

"Really?"

"I'm serious. That night, I went to break up with her. She said she didn't want to go on living, and as soon as I told her it was over, she just..."

"She jumped?"

"Yeah." He nodded hard, as if trying to convince both himself and me.

"Then why did you take the pills?"

Michael froze. "I-I felt so guilty."

"Guilty about what?"

"I-I shouldn't have said those things to her."

I looked at him. "Michael, when did you get so good at lying?"

Michael's face froze, turning stone cold.

I stood up and walked over to the window. "You said you only went to break up. So why did Olivia send her friend a voice message right before she died, saying she was scared?"

Michael opened his mouth, but no words came out.

"She said, 'He's downstairs.' That 'he' was you, wasn't it?"

"I-I was downstairs," Michael finally squeezed out. "But I didn't go up."

"Whether you went up or not, the police will find out." I turned to face him, locking eyes with him. "Michael, you'd better pray you didn't go up."