Part 6

The day before he died.

I remembered that day vividly.

October 16, 2019.

Robert had been unusually restless.

He kept asking where I'd placed his blue sweater.

Not because he was cold.

He said there was something in the pocket.

I searched the closet.

The sweater wasn't there.

Daniel told me he'd taken some laundry home.

I'd accepted the explanation.

Now I wondered what had really happened.

I pulled into my driveway and sat behind the steering wheel.

For seven years, I'd grieved a man while trusting the people who had stood beside me at his funeral.

Had they been watching me the entire time?

Waiting for the right opportunity?

I entered the house and went straight to Robert's bedroom closet.

His clothes had been donated years ago.

But one drawer still held old photographs, a watch, and a few letters.

At the bottom was a folded receipt from a dry cleaner.

Dated October 15, 2019.

The item description read:

BLUE WOOL SWEATER.

I stared at it.

Robert had asked about that sweater on the sixteenth.

Yet someone had taken it to be cleaned the previous day.

I checked the receipt carefully.

The customer name was printed in small letters.

D.

HALE.

Daniel.

A wave of anger rose through me.

I called Naomi.

She listened carefully.

"Keep the receipt," she said.

"Don't confront him."

"I want to ask him what he did."

"I understand."

"No, Naomi.

I don't think you do."

My voice broke.

"I sat beside my husband while he was dying.

I watched him struggle to breathe.

I held his hand when he was frightened.

And now I'm discovering that my son was searching his clothes and collecting my documents."

Naomi's voice softened.

"Then let's make sure we find out exactly why."

That afternoon, I received a text from Daniel.

Mom, Ashley and I are worried about you.

We think you should speak with someone about how you've been behaving.

I stared at the screen.

Then another message appeared.

We love you.

Please don't make us take steps to protect you.

My hands went cold.

There it was.

The threat Patricia had warned me about.

I forwarded both messages to Naomi.

Then I did something I'd never imagined doing.

I changed every lock on my house.

I also arranged additional exterior cameras and asked my bank to strengthen the security on my accounts.

The locksmith arrived before sunset.

While he worked, I stood in the hallway looking at Robert's photograph.

I remembered him laughing in that same doorway.

I remembered the smell of his coffee.

The way he always left his reading glasses on the kitchen counter.

I whispered, "I wish you were here."

For a moment, the silence was unbearable.

Then my phone rang.

It was Lucy.

My granddaughter was twelve now, bright and observant, with Robert's gray-blue eyes.

"Grandma?"

"Hello, sweetheart."

Her voice sounded strange.

"Are you mad at us?"

My heart broke.

"Of course not."

"Dad says you're upset with everybody."

"I'm upset about some grown-up things.

None of this is your fault."

She hesitated.

"Grandma, can I tell you something?"

"Anything."

"Mom and Dad have been fighting."

I closed my eyes.

"I'm sorry, honey."

"Dad said you were supposed to sign papers, but you wouldn't."

I remained quiet.

Then Lucy whispered, "I heard Grandpa George say they needed to make you look confused."

My heart started pounding.

"When did he say that?"

"Last week."

"Who was there?"

"Mom.

Dad.

Grandpa George."

I forced myself to stay calm.

"Lucy, listen carefully.

You don't need to get involved in any grown-up arguments."

"But Grandma—"

"I love you.

And you haven't done anything wrong."

She began crying.

"I don't want them to take your house."

Tears filled my eyes.

"They won't, sweetheart."

She sniffled.

Then she said something unexpected.

"Grandma, I think I have something you should see."

"What?"

"A video."

I froze.

"What video?"

"I was making a movie with Ben's tablet.

I left it recording when Mom and Dad came into the kitchen."

I gripped the phone.

"What did you hear?"

Lucy's voice became barely audible.

"Dad said Grandma had already signed the papers, and Mom said you hadn't.

Then Dad told her nobody would be able to prove the difference."

I closed my eyes.

"Lucy, sweetheart, don't tell anyone about that recording right now.

I'll have someone help us handle it safely."

There was a long silence.

Then she whispered, "Grandma?"

"Yes?"

"Is Daddy going to jail?"

I couldn't answer.

Because for the first time, I knew that possibility was real.

Chapter 10: The Daughter-in-Law Who Finally Broke

Three days later, Ashley appeared at my house.

She rang the doorbell repeatedly.

I watched her through the camera.

She looked exhausted.

Her hair was pulled into a messy ponytail, and she wasn't wearing makeup.

I spoke through the door.

"What do you want?"

"Margaret, please.

We need to talk."

"Call my lawyer."

"Please.

It's about Lucy and Ben."

That stopped me.

I called Naomi.

She advised me to keep the conversation brief and, if I chose to speak with Ashley, not to discuss documents or agree to anything.

I opened the door but remained in the entryway.

Ashley looked around.

"You changed the locks."

"Yes."

"Daniel was hurt."

I almost laughed.

"How unfortunate."

She swallowed.

"Margaret, I know you hate me."

"I don't hate you, Ashley.

But I don't trust you."

Tears filled her eyes.

"I made mistakes."

"You tried to arrange the sale of my home without my permission."

"I thought Daniel had discussed it with you."

I looked at her.

"Don't insult my intelligence."

She lowered her eyes.

For several seconds, neither of us spoke.

Then she whispered, "I didn't know George was selling us his own property."

I studied her face.

She looked genuinely shaken.

"Your mother told you?"

Ashley nodded.

"She told me everything."

"And now you're here because the scheme has fallen apart?"

She flinched.

"I came because Daniel is threatening to take the children if I tell anyone what happened."

I felt the anger drain from my face.

"Explain."

Ashley began crying.

She said Daniel had accumulated enormous debts through failed investments.

George offered to help.

At first, the plan seemed simple.

Sell my large home.

Use some of the proceeds to help Daniel and Ashley purchase Willowmere.

Move me into a condominium.

Everybody would supposedly benefit.

But when I refused, Daniel grew desperate.

"He said you'd come around eventually," Ashley whispered.

"Did he tell you to contact the real estate agency?"

She nodded.

"Yes."

"Did you know my signature was forged?"

Ashley closed her eyes.

"Not at first."

I waited.

"When I found out, he said it was only a preliminary document.

He promised nothing would happen without your approval."

I stared at her.

"And you believed him?"

She began crying harder.

"I wanted to."

That sentence told me more than any apology could have.

She had wanted the mansion.

Wanted the social status.

Wanted the money.

And she'd been willing to ignore warning signs until the consequences became impossible to avoid.

"Did Daniel forge my signature?"

I asked.

Ashley looked away.

"Margaret—"

"Answer me."

She whispered, "Yes."

My heart seemed to stop.

"Did you see him do it?"

She nodded.

I gripped the doorframe.

For several seconds, I couldn't breathe.

Then I asked, "Why didn't you stop him?"

Ashley covered her face.

"Because I thought we'd fix everything before anyone found out."

I stared at her.

"You gambled with my home because you thought you could fix it later?"

She said nothing.

I thought about throwing another glass of water.

Instead, I stepped aside and pointed toward the porch bench.

"Sit down."

She obeyed.

I sat several feet away.

"Listen carefully, Ashley.

I love Lucy and Ben.

I will always love them.

But loving those children doesn't mean I will participate in a crime to protect their parents."