Chương 5
“What does it say?”
She did not answer immediately.
“Samantha.”
She looked at me.
“He asked Daniel to confirm that you knew about the insurance increases.”
Daniel shook his head.
“I didn’t even see this.”
“What else?”
Samantha scrolled.
“He says you personally requested the changes because you were considering separating from him and wanted the children financially protected.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“No.”
Her mouth tightened.
“He attached a document.”
I already knew before she opened it.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
It was better than the others.
Much better.
Not a crude digital paste.
Someone had rebuilt it from several samples.
Daniel stared over Samantha’s shoulder.
“Is that yours?”
“No.”
My answer came out flat.
Samantha enlarged the page.
At the top was a date.
Four days before the crash.
Below it was language authorizing the policy changes.
At the bottom, beside the forged signature, was a witness line.
A name had been typed beneath it.
Kayla Mercer.
The babysitter.
The only person who had survived the crash.
For a moment, none of us spoke.
Daniel leaned closer to the screen as though proximity might turn the document into something less damning.
“She didn’t sign that,” he said.
Samantha looked at him.
“How do you know?”
“Because Kayla called me.”
I felt the room tilt.
“When?”
Daniel’s eyes moved to mine.
“Two days after the crash.”
Claire’s head snapped toward him.
“You never told anyone?”
“I didn’t know it mattered.”
“What did she say?”
“She was upset.”
“That narrows it down.”
Daniel flinched at Claire’s tone.
“She asked if Silas had been to see her.”
My pulse began pounding in my neck.
“Had he?”
“Yes.”
Samantha handed the phone back to Daniel.
“Where was Kayla at the time?”
“Hospital.”
“She was still admitted?”
“For another day, I think.”
I looked toward the chapel doors.
Outside, engines started and stopped as people left for the cemetery.
Someone had begun stacking folding chairs near the rear wall.
Normal tasks continued because they always did.
“What did Silas want from her?”
Daniel rubbed the back of his neck.
“She wouldn’t tell me exactly.”
“Exactly?”
“She said he wanted her to remember things differently.”
Samantha went still.
Claire whispered, “Jesus.”
I did not.
I had stopped having useful reactions.
“What things?”
Daniel looked miserable.
“She said he kept asking whether you had ever talked about increasing insurance.”
My stomach tightened.
“Did she answer?”
“She told him no.”
“Then what?”
“He said grief messes with memory.”
I closed my eyes.
That sounded like Silas.
Not just the words.
The shape of them.
A statement disguised as permission.
A threat disguised as concern.
Samantha took out her phone.
“I’m calling Miller.”
“Wait.”
She looked at me.
“Kayla’s alive.”
“Yes.”
“She can tell them herself.”
“She may already have.”
Daniel frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means Miller has been working this from multiple directions.”
I looked at Samantha.
“You knew they were talking to Kayla?”
“I knew they planned to reinterview her.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“And you didn’t tell me?”
“You were burying your children today.”
“They’re still my children when you don’t tell me things.”
Her jaw tightened.
“I know.”
“Do you?”
Claire stepped between us slightly.
“Maybe not here.”
I laughed once.
It came out ugly.
“Apparently everything happens here.”
Samantha did not defend herself.
That made it harder to stay angry.
“I should have told you they were reopening her interview,” she said.
“Yes.”
“I made the call not to.”
“Yes.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Don’t.”
She nodded.
“Fair.”
Daniel looked between us.
“I can forward the email.”
“Do that,” Samantha said.
“And do not delete anything.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Good.”
He typed slowly.
His thumb missed the screen twice.
When the message sent, Samantha asked him to preserve the entire thread and any texts from Silas.
Daniel stared at his phone.
“There are a lot.”
“How far back?”
“Years.”
“Then don’t go through them yourself.”
He looked almost offended.
“They’re my messages.”
“They may also be evidence.”
That word changed him.
Evidence.
Not family.
Not grief.
Not misunderstanding.
Evidence.
Daniel shoved the phone into his pocket.
“I need air.”
Claire folded her arms.
“You need a lawyer.”
He looked at her.
“I didn’t do anything.”
“That has never stopped anyone from needing a lawyer.”
For once, Samantha almost smiled.
Daniel noticed and gave a humorless breath.
“Great.”
He walked toward the exit.
I watched him go.
Halfway there, he turned back.
“Evelyn.”
I waited.
“I believed him because I wanted to.”
The honesty of it cut cleaner than an apology.
“He’s my brother.”
I said nothing.
Daniel nodded once and left.
Samantha called Miller.
He answered on the second ring.
She moved several feet away, speaking low.
I could not hear every word.
I caught Kayla’s name.
Then forged witness.
Then Daniel.
Then Samantha’s face changed.
“What?”
She listened.
“Are you certain?”
Another pause.
“All right.”
She ended the call.
I was already walking toward her.
“What happened?”
“Miller says Kayla’s interview is underway now.”
“Now?”
“At county.”
“Can I go?”
“No.”
I stared at her.
“That wasn’t a request for legal strategy.”
“I know.”
“Then don’t answer me like it was.”
Samantha exhaled.
“Miller specifically asked that you not go there.”
“Why?”
“Because Kayla is terrified.”
“Of me?”
“Of everybody.”
I looked toward Owen’s coffin again.
The lid had not yet been closed.
His astronaut’s helmet showed above the satin lining.
“Does she think I blame her?”
“I don’t know.”
“I did.”
Samantha said nothing.
I swallowed.
“I did blame her.”
“That was before.”
“I still did it.”
“You were told she lost control in the rain.”
“I told Claire I never wanted to see her face again.”
Claire lowered her eyes.
I remembered exactly where we had been.
My kitchen.
Three days after the crash.
Three untouched casseroles on the counter.
May you like
Kayla’s mother had left a voicemail asking whether I wanted to speak with her daughter.
I had deleted it without listening to the end.
