Chapter 4
The attic smelled like dust and cedar.
I had not gone up there since Clara died.
Grief had made certain places forbidden.
Vanessa had used that.
Julian stood behind me with his phone recording.
Officer Ramirez waited at the ladder.
The children were downstairs with Dr. Ford.
I found the blue keepsake chest beneath two old quilts.
My hands shook when I touched it.
Clara had painted tiny white flowers along the lid.
I remembered teasing her about it.
“You paint flowers on everything.”
She had smiled.
“Then everything knows it is loved.”
I nearly broke right there.
Instead, I slid the brass key into the lock.
It turned.
Inside were letters.
Photos.
A small silver recorder.
A flash drive.
And a sealed envelope with my name on it.
Arthur, if I am gone and the children are afraid of Vanessa, do not dismiss them.
My knees weakened.
Julian whispered, “Read it downstairs.”
I shook my head.
“I need to know.”
I opened the letter.
Clara’s handwriting blurred beneath my tears.
My love,
If you found this, then I was right to be afraid.
Vanessa is not who she says she is.
She was not my friend by accident.
She came into our lives because of your father’s company.
She knows about the missing trust money.
She knows who signed the false invoices.
And she knows I found the second ledger.
I stopped breathing.
My father’s company had nearly collapsed after his death.
I had spent years fixing what I thought was bad management.
Clara had been an accountant before Maya was born.
She had helped with records.
Then she died in a hit-and-run.
The driver was never found.
The letter continued.
I do not know if she will hurt me. But she has threatened the children if I talk.
Do not trust tears.
Do not trust Eleanor.
Do not trust the safe behind the nursery wall.
Eleanor.
Vanessa’s mother.
The woman who had moved into our guesthouse two months after our wedding.
My stomach turned.
Julian looked at me.
“Nursery wall?”
Maya’s old nursery.
Now Vanessa’s private sewing room.
The room she kept locked.
I grabbed the recorder.
Pressed play.
Clara’s voice filled the attic.
Soft.
Terrified.
“If I disappear, ask Vanessa why she has my hospital bracelet.”
The attic spun.
Julian caught my arm.
Below us, Vanessa screamed from the foyer.
“Arthur! Don’t listen to her!”
But it was too late.
May you like
My dead wife had started speaking.
And I was finally listening.
