Chapter 33
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We talked for another hour—about our childhood, about the competitive dynamic that had always existed between us, about the ways our parents had unintentionally pitted us against each other. It wasn't a complete reconciliation, but it was a beginning.
As our conversation wound down, Rebecca reached into her bag and pulled out a thick envelope. "There's one more thing. Evidence I've been gathering against Victor."
My eyebrows rose in surprise. "Evidence?"
"Financial records, emails, recordings of conversations. After I saw what happened to you in the hospital—the hemorrhage, the hysterectomy—I knew I had to do something. This was never what I signed up for."
I took the envelope, feeling its weight. "This could be dangerous for you."
"I know," she said grimly. "But it's the right thing to do. Finally."
As we prepared to leave, Rebecca hesitated, then asked, "How's Lily? Nathan mentioned you'd seen her."
The question caught me off guard. "She's... resilient. Traumatized, but fighting."
Rebecca nodded. "She's lucky to have you in her corner." She paused. "You'd make an amazing mother, Liv. You always would have."
The comment hit a tender spot, but not as painfully as it might have days ago. "Thank you," I said simply.
Nathan joined us as we walked out of the café. To my surprise, Rebecca hugged me—a brief, tentative embrace that I found myself returning.
"Take care of her," she said to Nathan as she pulled away.
"Always," he promised.
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On the drive back to the lake house, I was quiet, processing the conversation with my sister. Nathan respected my silence, one hand on the wheel, the other holding mine across the console.
"You okay?" he asked finally.
"I think so," I said. "It was... clarifying. To understand why she did what she did."
"Understanding doesn't mean you have to forgive right away," he reminded me.
I squeezed his hand. "I know. But it's a start."
When we returned to the lake house, I showed Nathan the envelope Rebecca had given me. Together, we spread the contents across the dining table—financial records showing payments to Dr. Reynolds and others, emails discussing the "Sullivan situation" and the need to "contain potential liabilities," even a recorded conversation between Victor and Reynolds discussing how to ensure my "medical complication" would be triggered at the right time.
"This is it," Nathan said, his voice tight with controlled anger. "This is enough to bring him down."
I looked at the evidence of Victor's crimes laid out before us—the calculated destruction of lives, including mine, all to protect his reputation and fortune. "What do we do with it?"
"We take it to the authorities," Nathan said firmly. "All of it. No more hiding, no more fear."
The determination in his voice matched the resolve growing within me. "He'll fight back," I warned. "He'll try to discredit us, to paint me as a disgruntled ex-daughter-in-law, you as a resentful son."
"Let him try," Nathan said, his jaw set.
I moved around the table to stand beside him, drawn to his strength, his certainty. "When did you become so fearless?" I asked softly.
He turned to me, his eyes intense. "The moment I realized I could lose you forever, Olivia."
The raw emotion in his voice made my heart race. I reached up to touch his face, my fingers tracing the line of his jaw. "I was so angry for so long," I whispered. "I thought that anger would protect me, keep me from being hurt again. But all it did was keep me from healing. From moving forward."
