Chương 8
She had changed from cream silk to a simple gray dress. Without jewelry, she looked smaller. Ethan did not trust the effect.
“You found her diary,” she said.
“It’s a notebook.”
“She wrote terrible things about all of us.”
“You read it?”
“I found it weeks ago.”
“And put it back?”
“I hoped writing would help her.”
“You read that she tried to call me.”
“She was confused.”
“You read that she thought you took her medicine.”
“She hid pills. I stored them safely.”
“Where are they?”
Lorraine hesitated.
“The nurse disposed of expired medication.”
“What nurse?”
“The private service.”
“Give me the name.”
“You have decided I am a monster.”
“I haven’t decided what word fits.”
Her face tightened.
“You think because you found her on the ground that everything before it disappears. I bathed her. I cleaned vomit from my carpet. I canceled dinners. Brooke drove across town at midnight because Natalie believed someone was outside her door.”
“Was someone?”
“No.”
“Why didn’t you call me?”
“She begged me not to burden you.”
The phrasing sounded plausible because it resembled Natalie.
Ethan felt the old pull again: the possibility that truth was not a line but a knot, that cruelty could coexist with care and therefore be renamed pressure.
Lorraine saw it.
“She is ill,” she said more softly. “And she hates needing us. I lost patience. I admit that. The trays were wrong. I should never have let her insist.”
“She didn’t insist.”
“You were not here.”
“No. I wasn’t.”
Lorraine stepped closer.
“The company is in danger. Your father’s life’s work is in danger. Natalie signed because she understood that. Then she became afraid and rewrote the moment.”
“You used my electronic signature.”
“You approved the refinance in principle.”
“I said we could discuss options.”
“You were unavailable. The deadline passed.”
“So you signed for me?”
“I acted as manager.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
She folded her arms.
“You always leave the decisions to other people and then become righteous when you dislike the result.”
The sentence struck because it was true in places she had not earned the right to use.
Ethan picked up the bag containing Natalie’s notebook and clothing.
“My attorney will send terms.”
“If you take this house from me, you will become your father.”
He looked at her.
“No. Dad would have kept it.”
He left.
Natalie read the notebook that evening without speaking. Ethan sat across the room, repairing a loose hinge on a kitchen cabinet because his hands needed a task.
The hinge did not need repair badly enough to justify the time he spent on it.
“You missed a screw,” Natalie said.
He checked.
The screw sat beside his knee.
“Right.”
She turned another page.
“I sound crazy in some of these.”
“You sound sick and scared.”
“I accused Brooke of taking my earrings. I found them later.”
“Where?”
“In the freezer.”
He looked up.
“I don’t know why.”
A reluctant smile moved across her face and vanished.
“Chemo brain,” she said. “Or I put them down with the ice tray. I don’t remember.”
“That doesn’t make the rest untrue.”
“No. But it makes it easier for them.”
He tightened the screw.
“I thought proof would feel different,” she said.
“How?”
“Cleaner.”
The doorbell rang.
Elena Ruiz stood outside wearing black work pants and a pink blouse printed with tiny white birds. She held a plastic grocery bag.
Marisol had located her through a former emergency contact. Elena had initially refused to speak by phone, then asked for Natalie’s address.
When Natalie saw her, she began crying before either woman said a word.
Elena set down the bag and held her carefully.
“I told you I would come back,” she whispered.
“They fired you.”
“They fired me for calling Mr. Ethan.”
Ethan remained near the kitchen.
Elena looked at him over Natalie’s shoulder. There was no gratitude in her face.
“You did not answer.”
“I called back.”
“Mrs. Mercer answered.”
“I know.”
“She said you knew everything.”
Natalie sat at the table. Elena unpacked containers of rice, chicken soup, and sliced melon.
“My sister cooked,” she said. “Not me. Mine has too much salt.”
For several minutes they talked about food. Elena complained that her sister believed cilantro belonged in every meal. Natalie said cilantro tasted like soap now. The ordinariness gave her room to breathe.
Then Marisol arrived with a statement form.
Elena described seeing Lorraine remove medication from Natalie’s room. She had seen Brooke hold Natalie’s wrist while Lorraine placed documents in front of her. She had found Natalie after a fall. She had heard Lorraine tell Natalie that Ethan would leave her if she cost him the mansion.
“Did you see anyone strike her?” Marisol asked.
“No.”
“Did you see how the bruises occurred?”
“Once Mrs. Mercer pulled her from the floor by both arms. Brooke helped. Another time Natalie fell near the sink.”
“Did Lorraine refuse medical care?”
“She said Natalie was performing.”
“Did you call anyone?”
“I called Mr. Ethan. Then Mrs. Mercer took my phone. The next morning she said money was missing from her bedroom.”
“Was money missing?”
“I do not know. She paid me through the end of the week and told me never to return.”
Elena looked at Ethan.
“You should have come home.”
He nodded.
“I should have.”
The answer did not satisfy her. It was not supposed to.
Natalie’s phone was delivered to a forensic examiner three days later. The device had been reset the morning after Ethan took her to the hospital.
Lorraine’s attorney claimed Natalie had requested the reset because the phone was malfunctioning.
The cloud account password had been changed from the mansion’s internet connection. Recovery emails had been redirected to an address connected to Brooke.
Some deleted data could be restored. Much could not.
Among the recovered items were two photographs Natalie had taken of bruises and an unfinished message to Ethan.
Please don’t believe—
May you like
The rest was gone.
Brooke had sent several texts from Natalie’s phone to Lorraine.
