Chapter 16 - The Laptop
Detective Reed collected the laptop that evening.
Nobody touched it first.
That mattered.
Chain of custody, Mr. Greene explained.
Nia was beginning to learn a vocabulary she never wanted.
Preservation.
Metadata.
Fraud alert.
Authentication.
Subpoena.
Words that transformed betrayal into evidence.
Two days later Reed called.
“We found browser artifacts consistent with the trust emails.”
Nia sat at the kitchen table.
“Malik?”
“We can’t conclude who physically typed them solely from browser history.”
“What can you conclude?”
“The messages were accessed from the laptop. The draft folder also contains remnants of language similar to the emails.”
Nia looked at her mother.
“Anything else?”
“Yes.”
Reed hesitated.
“There are downloaded copies of your university forms.”
Nia closed her eyes.
“Of course.”
“Some were accessed after Jasmine says she stopped regularly using the laptop.”
“So Malik could have been using it.”
“Potentially.”
“Can you prove it?”
“We’re working on device and account records.”
Nia had expected certainty.
Investigation offered probabilities.
That frustrated her.
Later, Jasmine came to the house.
Not inside.
She waited on the front porch.
Nia stepped out.
“How was the clinic?”
Jasmine looked tired.
“I’m continuing the pregnancy.”
Nia absorbed that.
“Okay.”
“That’s all?”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know.”
“It’s your decision.”
Jasmine nodded.
“I told Malik.”
Nia’s stomach tightened despite herself.
“What did he say?”
“That we should move in together.”
Nia laughed before she could stop herself.
Jasmine gave a bitter smile.
“Exactly.”
“Are you?”
“No.”
“Good.”
The word slipped out.
Nia corrected herself.
“Not because of me.”
“I know.”
“Because moving in with someone who forged financial documents sounds terrible.”
Jasmine almost laughed.
Almost.
“He said he needs to prove he can be a family.”
“He should prove he can be accountable first.”
Jasmine nodded.
Then handed Nia an envelope.
“What’s this?”
“Copies of letters.”
“From Malik?”
“No.”
“Who?”
“Me.”
Nia frowned.
“I wrote them to you over the last three months.”
“Why didn’t you send them?”
“Because they’re ugly.”
Nia did not take the envelope.
“What do they say?”
“The truth.”
“Which version?”
“The version where I knew what I was becoming.”
Nia stared.
Jasmine continued.
“I wrote after the first time with Malik.”
“What did you write?”
“That I hated myself.”
“That doesn’t make it better.”
“I know.”
“What else?”
“That part of me wanted you to lose something.”
Nia went still.
Jasmine did not look away.
“I’m tired of pretending jealousy wasn’t part of this.”
Nia took the envelope.
“Why give these to me?”
“Because Detective Reed asked if I had journals or anything documenting what happened.”
“You gave police copies?”
“Yes.”
“And me?”
“You deserve to know what was real.”
Nia looked at the envelope.
She feared opening it more than any bank document.
Financial records showed schemes.
Letters might show hatred.
“Did you love him?”
Jasmine’s eyes filled.
“I thought I did.”
“And now?”
“I think I loved how I felt when he chose me over you.”
That answer hurt.
Nia nodded slowly.
“Thank you for not lying.”
Jasmine wiped a tear.
“I’m finally understanding that honesty does not earn forgiveness.”
“No.”
“I kept thinking if I told enough truth, eventually you’d owe me softness.”
Nia stared at her.
“That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve said.”
Jasmine accepted the insult.
Nia looked toward the window.
Her mother watched from inside.
“Are you going to raise the baby with Malik?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he know police are investigating?”
“Yes.”
“What does he say?”
“That you’re trying to ruin his life.”
Nia laughed softly.
“There he is.”
“I told him you didn’t make him apply for credit.”
Nia looked at Jasmine.
“What happened?”
“He called me disloyal.”
Nia almost smiled.
“Interesting word choice.”
Jasmine did smile then.
It disappeared quickly.
“He told me if I cooperate with police, I’m choosing you over our child.”
Nia’s face hardened.
“That is manipulation.”
“I know.”
“What did you say?”
“That telling the truth is not choosing you.”
Jasmine straightened.
“It’s choosing not to become him.”
Nia looked at her for a long moment.
For the first time since graduation, she saw a version of Jasmine who might someday become someone better.
Not her best friend.
Maybe never again.
But someone better.
Jasmine turned to leave.
Then stopped.
“Read the letter dated February twenty-sixth first.”
“Why?”
“That’s the morning after the first time.”
Nia looked at the envelope.
“What’s in it?”
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Jasmine’s voice dropped.
“The first time Malik ever said he wished you would fail.”
