Chương 6
“You do.”
A small laugh escaped her.
It was weak.
But it was the first normal sound between them since the funeral.
For a moment, Ethan remembered the kitchen.
The broken mug.
The pancakes she burned every Saturday because she always answered work emails while cooking.
The ordinary things.
The things he almost lost.
A knock came at the door.
Both of them looked up.
It was not Detective Martinez.
It was an officer carrying a clear evidence bag.
Inside was Ethan’s mother’s phone.
Claire’s face changed immediately.
“That was found at the house.”
The officer looked at her.
“There’s something you should know.”
He placed the bag carefully on the table.
“The phone was turned on this morning.”
Ethan stared at it.
His mother stared too.
Neither of them spoke.
A phone that had supposedly been missing for days had suddenly appeared.
A message.
A mistake.
A warning.
Something.
The officer continued.
“We found a draft message that was never sent.”
Claire looked at him.
“What did it say?”
The officer hesitated.
Then he answered.
“It said, ‘If anything happens to me, do not trust Richard.’”
Ethan felt the air leave the room.
His mother closed her eyes.
Because she already knew something Ethan did not.
That message was not written after the attack.
It was written before.
Someone had known something was coming.
The room stayed silent after the officer finished speaking.
Claire stared at the evidence bag as if the phone inside belonged to someone she had never met.
Ethan watched her face instead.
He was learning that adults could hide a lot with words, but not with the small changes that happened before they spoke.
The tightening around her eyes.
The way her shoulders lowered.
The way her fingers stopped moving.
“What is it?” he asked.
Claire did not answer.
The officer looked uncomfortable.
“I can come back later.”
“No,” Claire said quickly.
Her voice surprised everyone, including herself.
“Stay.”
She looked at the phone.
“I need to know.”
The officer nodded and placed the bag on the table.
“We have not accessed anything beyond what was necessary to preserve evidence.”
Claire swallowed.
“Can I see the message?”
The officer glanced toward the door.
“Detective Martinez should review that with you.”
“She’s not here.”
The officer hesitated.
Then he removed a printed copy from his folder.
He did not hand over the phone.
Only the paper.
Claire took it with shaking fingers.
Ethan leaned closer.
The words were short.
The kind of message someone wrote when they did not have time to explain.
If anything happens to me, do not trust Richard.
Nothing else.
No details.
No accusation.
No proof.
Just a warning.
Ethan looked at his mother.
“You knew.”
Claire’s eyes remained on the paper.
“I suspected.”
“That he would hurt you?”
“No.”
She folded the paper carefully.
“That he was desperate.”
The distinction bothered Ethan.
Desperate was a word people used when they wanted to explain something terrible without naming it.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Because I wasn’t sure.”
“You almost died.”
“I know.”
“You could have told me.”
Her expression changed immediately.
“No.”
The answer was firm.
Too firm.
“You were twelve.”
“I’m not a baby.”
“I know you’re not.”
Her voice softened.
“That’s exactly why I didn’t want you carrying it.”
Ethan looked away.
He hated that part of him understood.
His mother had spent years trying to remove heavy things from his life.
She checked the weather before he left for school.
She kept extra snacks in her purse because she knew he forgot to eat when he was nervous.
She was always preparing for problems before he noticed them.
But this time, the problem had been bigger than both of them.
The officer left after telling them Detective Martinez would return soon.
Ethan sat back in the chair.
The room felt different now.
Before, the question was why Richard tried to kill Claire.
Now there was another question.
Who had known enough to warn her?
Claire looked exhausted.
“Ethan.”
He looked at her.
“There’s something else.”
He almost laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because every time someone said those words, his life became worse.
“What?”
Claire looked toward the closed door.
“Before Richard came over, I had already found something.”
“What?”
“A document.”
“What kind of document?”
She hesitated.
“A transfer agreement.”
“That sounds boring.”
“It was.”
A weak smile appeared on her face.
“That was why it was easy to miss.”
Ethan waited.
“Richard had created a company.”
“Why?”
“He said it was for investments.”
“Was it?”
“No.”
The answer was quiet.
“He was moving money through it.”
Ethan frowned.
“Whose money?”
Claire looked at him.
“People who trusted him.”
The meaning landed slowly.
“Other families?”
“Yes.”
The hospital room suddenly felt colder.
Richard was not just someone who made one terrible choice.
He had built something.
Something hidden.
Something that involved more people.
“Why would he do that?”
Claire looked tired.
“Because people convince themselves they are borrowing time.”
She looked down.
“They tell themselves they will fix it later.”
“Did he say that?”
“No.”
She touched the edge of the blanket.
“But I knew him.”
That sentence hurt Ethan.
Because it reminded him that Claire was not just a victim.
She was someone who had cared about Richard.
Someone who had trusted him.
Someone who now had to accept that the person she defended at family dinners had been lying beside her.
A knock interrupted them.
Detective Martinez entered carrying a different folder.
This time, she looked less patient.
Not angry.
Focused.
“We need to talk about Richard’s statement.”
Claire nodded.
“What did he say?”
“He admitted he was involved with the financial activity.”
Ethan looked surprised.
“Why would he admit that?”
“Because he believes admitting part of the truth will make the rest easier to explain.”
Detective Martinez sat down.
“He claims he discovered Claire was investigating him and confronted her.”
“And then?”
“He says she fell.”
May you like
Ethan stared.
“He accidentally put her in a coffin?”
