Page 11 of For Fear

"Please, come in," Melanie managed, stepping aside to let them enter.

The living room was nearly bare, save for a couple of mismatched chairs and a small coffee table that looked like it had been picked up from a garage sale. The walls were adorned with a few framed photographs—smiling faces frozen in time—but they did little to fill the emptiness that lingered in the air. Morgan's instincts kicked in, her mind racing through the implications of such a stark environment.

"Are you planning on moving?" she asked gently, her eyes scanning for signs of life among the hollow spaces. It was a simple question, but one that carried weight.

Melanie shook her head slowly. "No," she said softly. "We’re not moving. A lot of our assets were seized before Simon died."

Morgan exchanged a quick glance with Derik. Assets seized? That was a new twist. She could feel the gears turning in her mind, piecing together fragments of information that could lead to something bigger. “Seized?” she prompted, curiosity piqued as she leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed.

"Simon had... well, he had a gambling problem," Melanie said, her voice trembling slightly. "He was brilliant, a mathematician, but addiction is a beast. It finally caught up to him."

"How bad was it?" Derik interjected, leaning forward slightly, his green eyes focused intently on Melanie, urging her to continue.

"About a year ago…" Her voice dropped to a whisper, as if the weight of the words threatened to crush her. "He used his company’s credit card to gamble. Tens of thousands—gone. When it came out..." She inhaled sharply, fighting back emotion."His career was nearly destroyed. It was a dark time for both of us."

Morgan could see the tremor in Melanie's hands as she spoke, the rawness of pain coating each word. The story unfurled like a tight coil, revealing desperation and despair, and with it, Morgan's sense of urgency heightened. This wasn’t just another case; this was a life unraveled, a series of poor choices leading to a tragic end.

"Did he ever mention any threats or anyone he owed money to?" Morgan pressed, her voice steady, determined to dig deeper.

"No. He kept most of it to himself, trying to handle it alone, I guess." Melanie's gaze drifted to the window, where the autumn leaves swirled outside, their vibrant colors stark against the muted backdrop of her home.

"That must’ve been hard," Derik said quietly, sensing the depth of Melanie's grief without pushing too hard.

"Yeah," Melanie whispered, her shoulders sagging with the weight of memories. "He lost everything—his job, his reputation. But he was trying. He really was."

"Trying how?" Morgan's tone remained sharp, slicing through the fog of melancholy. She needed specifics, something tangible to hold onto amidst the emotional wreckage.

"Therapy," Melanie said, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "He started seeing Dr. Reid... a specialist. He thought that maybe he could turn things around again."

"Dr. Reid," Morgan repeated, mentally jotting the name down, aware that this could be a crucial lead.

"Yes," Melanie nodded, her expression shifting between hope and despair. "He believed he could beat it. We both did."

Morgan exchanged a glance with Derik, caught in the vortex of Melanie's grief and despair. She watched as the womanfumbled with the worn-out bracelet that clung to her wrist, her gaze vacant as she ventured into the labyrinth of her memories.

"Did it help?" Derik ventured, his voice threading through the silence that had descended over them.

Melanie shrugged, a ghost of a smile flitting across her face. "I like to believe it did. He was more focused, started getting up early… even found a job at a local bookstore. He tried, he really did."

"But things didn't change, did they?" Derik's voice broke the momentary silence, his question hanging heavy in the room.

Melanie sighed, nodding. "Simon was hopeful at first, but as time went on, he started to withdraw again. He stopped talking about his therapy, became secretive... It felt like he was slipping away."

"Did you ever meet this Dr. Reid?" Morgan asked, her dark eyes narrowing slightly.

"No," Melanie admitted, shaking her head. "Simon wanted to handle it himself. I guess he thought he was protecting me."

Morgan and Derik exchanged glances, a silent communication passing between them. There was something here—a thread that just needed a little more tugging.

"And the company credit card he used for gambling... Did you ever see any of the bills or statements?" Morgan inquired.

Melanie nodded. "Yes, they all came here. I saw the amounts... It was... overwhelming. Despite everything, I still wanted to make it work. And now he’s gone…”

"Thank you for sharing that with us," Derik replied, his voice low and respectful, acknowledging the fragile nature of their conversation.

"Just… please find out what happened to him," Melanie pleaded, her voice a fragile thread.

Morgan felt the gravity of the moment settle heavily on her chest. They were stepping into dangerous waters, but thecurrents were drawing them in. As they prepared to leave, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Simon Holt’s fate intertwined with something darker than mere addiction—a tangled web waiting to be unraveled.

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