I barely slept that night.
Rebecca’s final words kept repeating in my mind.
“The marriage may have been entered into under false pretenses.”
I had spent months believing I simply fell in love with the wrong man.
Now another possibility haunted me.
What if Brandon hadn’t fallen in love with me at all?
What if he had fallen in love with the six hundred and fifty thousand dollars?
The following morning, Rebecca called before eight.
“I have an appointment with the forensic accountant.”
“So soon?”
“He cleared his schedule after reviewing the loan documents.”
I grabbed my notebook.
“What does he think?”
“He thinks someone expected a very large deposit immediately after the wedding.”
My stomach tightened.
“The wedding money.”
“That’s his first assumption.”
At the same time, Ronald walked into Daniel Mercer’s office carrying the loan agreement.
“I need the whole truth.”
Daniel nodded.
“I was hoping you’d say that.”
He spread dozens of documents across the conference table.
“There wasn’t just one loan.”
Ronald frowned.
“What do you mean?”
“There were four.”
Daniel pointed one by one.
“A personal loan.”
“A business line of credit.”
“Two private investor agreements.”
Ronald stared in disbelief.
“How much altogether?”
Daniel slid a summary page toward him.
Ronald’s hands trembled as he read the total.
$1,183,000.
“…Impossible.”
“It isn’t.”
“My son doesn’t make enough money to borrow this much.”
“He didn’t.”
Daniel opened another file.
“Most of the loans were personally guaranteed.”
“By who?”
Daniel hesitated.
Then quietly answered,
“By Brenda.”
Ronald slowly sat back.
For years his wife had insisted the family finances were perfectly healthy.
She had handled every account.
Every investment.
Every tax return.
Every payment.
Now he wasn’t sure he had ever known the truth.
Meanwhile, Brandon sat alone in his office cleaning out his desk.
His suspension had become the talk of the company.
People who once greeted him every morning now avoided eye contact.
He stuffed files into a cardboard box.
Then his phone rang.
Unknown number.
He answered immediately.
“This is Brandon.”
A man’s voice replied.
“Mr. Whitaker.”
“Yes?”
“I’m calling regarding your outstanding balance.”
Brandon’s face tightened.
“This isn’t a good time.”
“I’m afraid it hasn’t been a good time for several months.”
He lowered his voice.
“I told you I’d pay.”
“Our agreement required payment within seventy-two hours of the wedding.”
“I know.”
“The deadline has passed.”
Brandon closed his office door.
“I need another week.”
“You’ve already had eight months.”
“I said I’ll pay.”
The caller remained calm.
“Our investors are becoming impatient.”
The line went silent.
Then the man added one sentence that made Brandon’s blood run cold.
“We approved your loan because you assured us the wedding funds would solve everything.”
The call ended.
Brandon remained frozen.
Someone had heard every word.
Outside his office…
His assistant had stopped to deliver mail.
The door wasn’t completely closed.
She hadn’t intended to listen.
But she had heard enough.
That afternoon, Emily met Ronald at a quiet park.
She looked exhausted.
“I need to tell you something.”
Ronald nodded.
“I’m listening.”
Emily took a deep breath.
“The recording wasn’t the only thing Mom made me hide.”
His heart sank.
“What else?”
She reached into her backpack.
A small envelope appeared.
Inside were three handwritten letters.
“They’re all from Olivia.”
Ronald carefully unfolded the first.
It wasn’t addressed to Brandon.
Or Brenda.
It was addressed to him.
Dear Mr. Whitaker,
I know you’ll probably never read this because Brenda said she’d personally make sure these letters disappear.
Ronald closed his eyes.
He already knew what that meant.
Emily whispered,
“I found them in Mom’s bedroom after Olivia left.”
“Why didn’t you give them to me?”
“I was sixteen.”
She looked down at the ground.
“I was terrified of her.”
Ronald couldn’t blame her.
The first letter continued.
I don’t hate Brandon.
I hate the person he becomes whenever Brenda tells him what a husband should be.
Ronald’s vision blurred.
He folded the letter carefully.
“I failed both of you.”
Emily gently squeezed his hand.
“You can still help Melanie.”
Late that evening, Rebecca arrived at my parents’ house carrying another folder.
She looked unusually serious.
“I’ve spoken with the forensic accountant.”
“And?”
“He found something.”
She placed one document in front of me.
It was a timeline.
Eight months before the wedding…
Brandon applied for the first loan.
Six months before the wedding…
He increased his borrowing.
Four months before the wedding…
He proposed to me.
Three months before the wedding…
He insisted my apartment be sold.
One month before the wedding…
He repeatedly asked whether my parents planned to give us financial gifts.
One week before the wedding…
He asked if the wedding money would be deposited immediately.
I stared at the page.
Every event lined up perfectly.
Rebecca quietly said,
“Viewed separately, each event looks ordinary.”
She tapped the timeline.
“But together…”
“They tell a very different story.”
I looked up.
“What story?”
Rebecca met my eyes.
“A man running out of money…”
“…who believed marriage would rescue him.”
At that exact moment, none of us realized another person had reached the very same conclusion.
Across town…
Linda Foster sat alone in her office.
The loan documents lay open beside the prenuptial agreement.
She slowly removed her glasses.
Then she whispered to herself,
“Oh, Brandon…”
“…what have you done?”
Because for the first time since taking the case…
Even his own attorney was beginning to wonder whether Brandon’s marriage had been motivated by love at all.
PART 10
The Message That Changed Everything
The next morning, Rebecca called before I had even finished my coffee.
“Melanie?”
“You sound serious.”
“I need you to come to my office.”
“Did something happen?”
“Yes.”
She paused.
“And I don’t want to discuss it over the phone.”
Within forty minutes, I was sitting across from her conference table.
Several folders had been opened.
The forensic accountant’s report.
The loan agreements.
The prenuptial agreement.
And one new document I had never seen before.
Rebecca slid it toward me.
“It arrived anonymously at six-thirty this morning.”
I looked at the plain white envelope.
No return address.
No signature.
Only four typed words on the front.
She Deserves The Truth
My heartbeat quickened.
“Who sent it?”
“We don’t know.”
“Were there fingerprints?”
“The police are checking.”
I carefully opened the envelope.
Inside was a single printed page.
At first glance, it looked like an ordinary text-message conversation.
Then I saw the names.
Brandon
Brenda
The date at the top caught my attention.
It was nearly two months before Brandon proposed.
Rebecca watched my expression.
“Read it.”
The first message was from Brenda.
How much do her parents have?
Brandon replied.
Enough that one wedding could solve everything.
I stopped breathing.
Rebecca quietly nodded.
“Keep going.”
The next message read:
Once we’re married, she’ll trust us.
Then another.
Make sure the money goes into an account we can control.
Another.
Convince her to leave her apartment first. She won’t need two homes after the wedding.
My hands began to tremble.
None of those messages sounded like a man planning a marriage.
They sounded like two people planning a business transaction.
Then I reached the final message.
Brenda had written:
Remember… don’t show your real expectations until after the ceremony.
Silence filled the room.
Rebecca finally spoke.
“If these messages are authentic…”
She didn’t finish the sentence.
She didn’t need to.
Across town, Linda Foster entered Brandon’s office carrying a thick file.
He looked up hopefully.
“Good news?”
“No.”
She closed the door.
“We need to talk.”
Brandon forced a smile.
“About the mediation?”
“No.”
“The loans?”
“No.”
She laid the anonymous screenshots on his desk.
His face instantly lost its color.
“Where did you get these?”
“So they’re real?”
He didn’t answer.
Linda repeated the question.
“Are they real?”
Brandon slowly sat down.
“…Yes.”
Linda stared at him.
“You told me this case was about a misunderstanding after the wedding.”
“It was.”
She raised the papers.
“Then explain these.”
He rubbed both hands over his face.
“I never meant for it to happen like this.”
Linda’s voice hardened.
“I’m not asking what you meant.”
“I’m asking whether you discussed Melanie’s family’s money before proposing.”
Another long silence.
Finally…
“…Yes.”
Linda closed her briefcase.
“I can no longer defend your version of events.”
He looked up in panic.
“What does that mean?”
“It means your credibility is disappearing.”
“You can’t leave my case.”
“I haven’t.”
She met his eyes.
“But from this moment forward…”
“…I need complete honesty.”
That afternoon, Ronald asked Emily to meet him at the old family church.
Neither of them had attended services there in years.
They sat quietly on a wooden bench.
“I owe you an apology.”
Emily looked surprised.
“For what?”
“For teaching you that keeping peace was more important than telling the truth.”
She looked down.
“I thought protecting the family was the right thing.”
“So did I.”
Ronald sighed deeply.
“And because of that…”
“…Olivia walked away believing no one believed her.”
Emily wiped away a tear.
“And now Melanie almost suffered the same fate.”
Ronald nodded.
“But not this time.”
He looked toward the stained-glass windows.
“This time…”
“…I’m going to tell the whole truth.”
That evening, Rebecca received another call.
It was Daniel Mercer.
“I found the source.”
Rebecca straightened in her chair.
“The anonymous messages?”
“Yes.”
“Who sent them?”
Daniel answered quietly.
“They didn’t come from Olivia.”
“They didn’t come from Ronald.”
“They didn’t come from Emily.”
Rebecca frowned.
“Then who?”
Daniel took a slow breath.
“The phone belonged to Brenda.”
“I know that.”
“But the screenshots were recovered from someone else’s backup.”
Rebecca waited.
Daniel finally said the name.
“Brandon’s younger brother.”
Rebecca searched her memory.
“I didn’t know Brandon had a brother.”
“Most people don’t.”
“He moved away seven years ago.”
“He cut off contact with the family.”
Rebecca’s eyes widened.
“Why?”
Daniel’s voice became almost a whisper.
“Because he warned Brandon not to become their mother…”
“…and Brandon laughed.”
Rebecca slowly lowered the phone.
Until that moment…
Everyone believed Ronald was the only family member who had ever questioned Brenda.
They were wrong.
There had been another.
Someone who had walked away years earlier.
Someone who had seen exactly what the Whitaker family was becoming.
And now…
After years of silence…
He had decided it was finally time to come home.
PART 11
The Brother Who Walked Away
Rebecca ended the call with Daniel and immediately looked at me.
“There’s someone we’ve never met.”
I frowned.
“Who?”
“Brandon’s younger brother.”
I blinked.
“He has a brother?”
“So did I.”
Rebecca slid a notepad across the desk.
“His name is Ethan Whitaker.”
“I’ve never heard Brandon mention him.”
Rebecca nodded.
“Neither has anyone else.”
She picked up another document.
“According to Daniel, Ethan left home seven years ago.”
“Why?”
“He refused to live by Brenda’s rules.”
I stared at her.
“So Brandon just…”
“…pretended he didn’t exist.”
“That’s exactly what it looks like.”
Across town, Brandon burst into his mother’s kitchen.
“You lied to me.”
Brenda looked up from the sink.
“What are you talking about?”
“Ethan.”
She immediately turned away.
“There is nothing to discuss.”
“There is everything to discuss.”
He slammed both hands onto the table.
“Why didn’t you tell me he’d been talking to investigators?”
Brenda froze.
“…Investigators?”
“You knew where he was.”
“I haven’t spoken to him in years.”
“Then how did he get our text messages?”
Brenda’s face slowly lost its color.
She whispered almost to herself,
“He kept them…”
Brandon heard every word.
“What?”
She looked toward the window.
“I thought he deleted everything.”
“What everything?”
Instead of answering, Brenda walked upstairs.
She unlocked an old cedar chest at the back of her closet.
Inside were family photo albums.
Birth certificates.
Christmas cards.
And one framed family portrait.
Brenda removed it.
There were five people in the picture.
Ronald.
Brenda.
Emily.
Brandon.
And a young man standing at the edge with his hands in his pockets.
Ethan.
Without hesitation…
Brenda turned the frame over.
She removed Ethan’s photograph.
Folded it in half.
Then threw it into the trash.
Downstairs, Brandon watched silently from the doorway.
“You’ve been trying to erase him…”
“…haven’t you?”
Brenda didn’t answer.
Her silence was all the answer he needed.
That afternoon, Daniel Mercer drove nearly three hours to a quiet town outside Denver.
He parked beside a modest woodworking shop.
The wooden sign above the entrance simply read:
Whitaker Woodworks
Inside, a man in his early thirties sanded the edge of an oak dining table.
Daniel approached.
“Ethan?”
The man looked up.
“I was wondering when someone would find me.”
Daniel extended his hand.
“I’m Daniel Mercer.”
“I know.”
“You do?”
Ethan smiled faintly.
“I recognized your car from the photographs my sister sent.”
Daniel frowned.
“Emily?”
Ethan nodded.
“She finally chose the truth.”
Daniel looked around the workshop.
“You built all this?”
“It took seven years.”
He brushed sawdust from his hands.
“It also took seven years to stop hearing my mother’s voice every morning.”
Daniel remained quiet.
Ethan looked toward the window.
“I suppose Melanie left.”
Daniel nodded.
“On the first morning.”
A sad smile crossed Ethan’s face.
“Good.”
Daniel looked surprised.
“You aren’t shocked?”
“I would’ve been shocked if she stayed.”
Back at Rebecca’s office, Daniel called on speakerphone.
“I found him.”
Rebecca immediately answered,
“Is he willing to talk?”
“Yes.”
I leaned closer.
“What did he say?”
Daniel smiled.
“His exact words were…”
“‘Melanie did what I wish my father had done thirty years ago.'”
The room fell silent.
Rebecca finally asked,
“Will he testify?”
Daniel glanced toward Ethan.
“I’ll let him answer.”
Ethan stepped closer to the phone.
“My name is Ethan Whitaker.”
His voice was calm.
“I spent twenty-three years watching my mother control everyone in our house.”
No one interrupted.
“I watched my father become quieter every year.”
“I watched my brother slowly become the person he once promised never to become.”
He paused.
“And I watched one woman leave before the wedding because she realized the truth.”
His voice became firmer.
“I won’t watch it happen to another woman.”
I swallowed hard.
“You’re willing to testify?”
“Yes.”
“Why now?”
There was a long silence.
Then Ethan answered with quiet honesty.
“Because I finally realized that staying silent doesn’t keep a family together.”
“It only protects the people hurting everyone else.”
That evening, Brandon returned to the empty family house.
For the first time in his life…
No one greeted him.
Emily wasn’t answering his calls.
Ronald hadn’t come home.
Brenda had locked herself in her bedroom.
He sat alone in the living room.
His eyes drifted toward an old family photograph hanging above the fireplace.
He stood.
Walked closer.
Something looked different.
He stared for several seconds before realizing what had changed.
The youngest son was gone.
Someone had carefully cut Ethan out of the photograph.
Only a jagged empty space remained between Brandon and Emily.
He slowly turned toward the staircase.
“…Mom?”
No answer.
He looked back at the damaged photograph.
Then, for the first time…
A terrible thought crossed his mind.
If his own mother could erase one of her children from the family…
How many other people had she erased before them?
PART 12
Ethan Tells the Truth
The following morning, Rebecca called before I had finished breakfast.
“Ethan agreed.”
I looked up from my coffee.
“To what?”
“To give a sworn statement.”
I slowly set my cup down.
“When?”
“This afternoon.”
My heartbeat quickened.
For the first time…
Someone from Brandon’s own family had chosen to stand beside the truth.
Ethan arrived at Rebecca’s office exactly at one o’clock.
He wasn’t dressed like the wealthy family Brandon had always bragged about.
He wore faded jeans.
Work boots covered in sawdust.
A plain blue shirt with the logo of his woodworking shop stitched over the pocket.
When he walked into the conference room, our eyes met.
“I’m sorry,” he said quietly.
I frowned.
“We’ve never met.”
“I know.”
He lowered his head.
“But I still owe you an apology.”
Rebecca motioned for everyone to sit.
The recorder was switched on.
She looked at Ethan.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
He took a deep breath.
“My mother has spent most of her life believing love is something you earn through obedience.”
The room fell silent.
“When we were children, every mistake had a punishment.”
“If dinner wasn’t perfect…”
“Someone ate alone.”
“If the house wasn’t spotless…”
“Someone lost television.”
“If we questioned her…”
“She reminded us that children existed to respect their parents.”
He gave a tired smile.
“I didn’t realize until I was older that respect isn’t supposed to travel in only one direction.”
Rebecca continued taking notes.
“What about Brandon?”
Ethan’s expression grew sad.
“He wasn’t always like this.”
I looked at him.
“What changed?”
“Our grandfather died.”
Rebecca looked up.
“Explain.”
“He left enough money for all of us to attend college without debt.”
“So?”
“My mother convinced Brandon that the inheritance proved he deserved more than everyone else.”
Ethan folded his hands together.
“She constantly told him he was special.”
“The future head of the family.”
“The son who deserved obedience.”
“The one whose wife should take care of everyone.”
He looked directly at me.
“She repeated those ideas so often…”
“…that eventually Brandon stopped questioning them.”
Rebecca asked softly,
“And Olivia?”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“I liked Olivia.”
“So did Dad.”
“What happened?”
“My mother happened.”
He leaned back in his chair.
“Three weeks before the wedding…”
“…Olivia asked whether she and Brandon could buy a house near her parents.”
Rebecca nodded.
“And?”
“My mother exploded.”
“What did she say?”
Ethan didn’t need to think.
“I remember every word.”
He looked toward the ceiling.
“‘A proper wife leaves her family behind.'”
“‘Your husband comes first.'”
“‘His parents come second.'”
“‘Everyone else comes after that.'”
I felt my stomach twist.
Rebecca asked,
“Did Brandon defend Olivia?”
Ethan looked down.
“No.”
“What did he do?”
“He told Olivia she needed to make more sacrifices.”
Rebecca quietly wrote another note.
“And that’s when Olivia left?”
“No.”
He shook his head.
“That was only the beginning.”
Ethan reached into the folder he had brought.
“I found something while cleaning out my garage.”
He removed an old notebook.
The cover was worn and faded.
“My mother kept this in the kitchen for years.”
Rebecca carefully opened it.
At first it looked like an ordinary household planner.
Then she reached the middle.
Every page had names.
Dates.
Notes.
She frowned.
“What is this?”
Ethan answered quietly.
“My mother’s rules for future daughters-in-law.”
No one spoke.
Rebecca turned another page.
Each section had a different heading.
Cooking Expectations
Laundry Schedule
Weekly Cleaning Duties
Respect Rules
Then she stopped.
One page had been marked with a red ribbon.
Across the top, written in Brenda’s unmistakable handwriting, were six chilling words.
How To Build A Respectful Wife
Below it was a numbered list.
- Keep her away from friends.
- Limit visits to her parents.
- Encourage financial dependence.
- Make her ask permission.
- Correct disobedience immediately.
- Never let her believe she has another home.
The room became completely silent.
I couldn’t take my eyes off the page.
Those weren’t reminders.
They were instructions.
Rebecca slowly closed the notebook.
“Ethan…”
“…how many women saw this?”
He answered without hesitation.
“Only one.”
“Who?”
“My mother.”
He paused.
“And now all of us.”
Across town, Brandon unlocked the front door and found Brenda sitting alone in the dining room.
She wasn’t eating.
She wasn’t reading.
She simply stared out the window.
He sat across from her.
“I spoke to Linda.”
Brenda didn’t respond.
“She says Ethan is cooperating.”
Brenda finally looked at him.
“Your brother is dead to me.”
Brandon swallowed.
“No…”
“He isn’t.”
Brenda’s eyes narrowed.
“He chose strangers over his family.”
Brandon stared at his mother for several long seconds.
Then, in a voice barely above a whisper, he asked the question that had haunted him since seeing the damaged family photograph.
“Mom…”
“…did Ethan leave us…”
“…or did you push him away too?”
For the first time in decades…
Brenda had no answer.
Because deep inside…
She knew exactly which one was true.
And so did Brandon.
PART 13
The Woman Who Refused to Stay Silent
Brenda didn’t answer.
She simply stood, picked up the notebook from the dining table, and walked toward the kitchen.
Brandon followed her.
“Mom.”
Silence.
“Answer me.”
She opened a cabinet, reached for a box of matches, and struck one.
The tiny flame flickered.
Without hesitation, she lowered it toward the notebook.
“Mom!”
Brandon grabbed her wrist just before the fire reached the first page.
The match fell into the sink and hissed out beneath the running faucet.
“What are you doing?”
Brenda pulled her hand away.
“Getting rid of something that no longer matters.”
Brandon stared at her.
“It matters if Ethan gave it to Melanie.”
Brenda’s face changed.
“He what?”
“You heard me.”
For the first time…
Real fear appeared in her eyes.
At Rebecca’s office, the notebook lay sealed inside a clear evidence bag.
Rebecca carefully labeled it before placing it into a secure file cabinet.
“This stays here.”
I watched her lock the cabinet.
“Is it really that important?”
She looked directly at me.
“It isn’t just a notebook anymore.”
“What is it?”
“It may establish a long-term pattern of controlling behavior.”
She paused.
“And courts pay attention to patterns.”
Daniel Mercer entered carrying another folder.
“I’ve got something.”
Rebecca smiled.
“Please tell me it’s good.”
“It’s interesting.”
He placed several printed emails on the conference table.
“They came from Olivia’s attorney.”
I looked up.
“Her attorney kept records?”
Daniel nodded.
“Everything.”
He pointed to the first email.
“Olivia reported concerns almost a month before she ended the engagement.”
Rebecca began reading aloud.
My future mother-in-law insists that after the wedding I must stop visiting my parents every weekend.
Another email.
Brandon says married women shouldn’t need private savings.
Another.
Brenda asked whether my parents planned to help us financially after the wedding.
I felt a chill.
Every sentence sounded painfully familiar.
Daniel quietly said,
“Different woman.”
“Same script.”
Meanwhile, Ronald stood outside Olivia Bennett’s home.
He hadn’t seen her in five years.
He almost turned around.
Instead, he rang the doorbell.
A woman opened the door a few moments later.
She looked older.
More confident.
But Ronald recognized her immediately.
Olivia.
For several seconds…
Neither of them spoke.
Finally, Ronald lowered his head.
“I’m sorry.”
Olivia looked at him carefully.
“What are you apologizing for?”
“For not believing what I should have seen.”
She remained silent.
“For letting you leave thinking no one cared.”
A long pause followed.
Then Olivia quietly opened the front door.
“You should come inside.”
They sat across from each other in a small living room.
There were children’s drawings hanging on one wall.
Family photographs on another.
Olivia noticed Ronald looking around.
“I’m married now.”
He smiled softly.
“I’m glad.”
“My husband knows everything.”
“I’m glad about that too.”
Ronald clasped his hands together.
“I need to ask you something.”
She nodded.
“If the court asks…”
“…will you testify?”
Olivia didn’t answer immediately.
Instead, she stood and walked toward a bookshelf.
She returned carrying a worn leather journal.
“I’ve been waiting five years for someone to ask me that.”
She handed it to him.
Inside were dated entries.
Conversations.
Descriptions.
Every meeting with Brandon.
Every conversation with Brenda.
Every warning sign.
Ronald slowly turned another page.
Then another.
Near the middle of the journal, one sentence had been underlined twice.
I don’t think Brandon wants a partner.
I think Brenda wants another daughter she can control.
Ronald closed the journal.
His eyes filled with tears.
“I failed you.”
Olivia gently shook her head.
“No.”
“You failed yourself.”
He looked confused.
“You spent thirty-five years convincing yourself that keeping quiet kept your family together.”
She smiled sadly.
“It didn’t.”
“It only kept everyone else silent.”
Ronald couldn’t argue.
Because she was right.
Late that afternoon, Brandon received an unexpected visitor.
Someone knocked on the front door.
He opened it.
Standing outside was a middle-aged man wearing a dark business suit.
“Mr. Whitaker?”
“Yes.”
“My name is Charles Henson.”
“I represent Westbrook Financial.”
Brandon’s heartbeat quickened.
“What do you want?”
The man handed him a sealed envelope.
“You’ve officially defaulted on your loan.”
Brandon stared at the document.
“I asked for more time.”
“Our investors declined.”
“I’ll pay.”
“With what?”
Brandon said nothing.
Charles continued calmly.
“According to your agreement, repayment was expected immediately after your wedding.”
He looked Brandon straight in the eye.
“That didn’t happen.”
Brandon slowly lowered the papers.
“Please…”
“I just need another month.”
Charles sighed.
“I wish it were that simple.”
He turned to leave.
Then stopped.
“Oh…”
“One more thing.”
Brandon looked up.
“Our investigators discovered something this morning.”
His stomach tightened.
“What?”
Charles answered quietly.
“They’re beginning to question whether you ever had the ability to repay these loans…”
“…without your wife’s wedding money.”
The front door slowly closed.
Brandon remained frozen in the hallway.
For the first time…
He realized this was no longer only a divorce.
The financial decisions he had hidden for months were beginning to attract attention from people far beyond the courtroom.
And unlike his family…
They weren’t interested in excuses.
