Chapter 6: Fourteen Months of Silence
They read until past midnight.
Richard walked them through it — not just the notebook entries, but the context behind each one.
The Sunday lunch where Sophia had smiled at Ethan while pressing her heel onto Richard's foot under the table.
The phone call Richard had accidentally overheard, where Sophia told someone on the other end that the old man wouldn't be a problem much longer.
The afternoon she'd spent two hours in Richard's study while Ethan was at work, claiming she was looking for a book.
"Did you check what was missing?" Claire asked.
"Nothing was missing," Richard said.
"But the folder with my financial records had been moved.
And photographed, I think.
The pages were slightly out of order."
Ethan looked up from the notebook.
"She was building a picture of your assets."
"That's what I believed."
"For how long before the will change?"
"I changed the will eight weeks ago.
I think she found out within the week.
She became — different.
Quieter.
Watchful." Richard paused.
"That's when the letter arrived."
Ethan had read the letter three times by now.
He could have recited it from memory.
*If you do not restore the original terms of the will within fourteen days, I will go to the police and tell them what you did to me.
I have a doctor's appointment already scheduled.
I know how to make bruises show.*
He set the notebook down.
"She had a doctor's appointment scheduled," he said.
"Before today."
"Yes."
"She was going to manufacture evidence."
"I believe so."
Claire stood up and walked to the window.
Outside, the driveway was empty.
The garden was dark.
"We need a solicitor," she said.
"Not just Gerald Marsh for the will.
A proper family solicitor who can advise on the police complaint."
"I know someone," Margaret said.
Everyone looked at her.
She shrugged slightly.
"My neighbor's daughter.
She handles exactly this kind of thing.
I can call her in the morning."
Ethan nodded.
"Do that."
He looked at his father.
Richard looked exhausted in a way that went past the hour.
The kind of tired that came from carrying something heavy for too long in silence.
"Why didn't you tell me about the previous marriage?" Ethan asked.
"I tried to find out more about it first.
I didn't want to bring you something half-formed." Richard folded his hands on the table.
"Her name before she married you was Sophia Crane.
Before that — briefly — Sophia Alderton.
The marriage lasted eleven months.
The husband's name was Patrick Alderton."
"How do you know this?"
"I hired someone to find out.
After the letter." Richard met his son's eyes steadily.
"I know that sounds extreme.
I want you to understand that I did not do it lightly."
Ethan was quiet.
"Patrick Alderton's family filed a complaint against her," Richard continued.
"During the divorce.
They said she had taken money from a joint account — a significant amount — in the weeks before she left.
The complaint was eventually dropped.
Patrick didn't want to pursue it." He paused.
"He told the investigator he just wanted it to be over."
The kitchen clock ticked.
"She's done this before," Claire said from the window.
She didn't turn around.
"I believe she has."
Ethan stood up slowly.
He walked to the counter, poured a glass of water, and stood with his back to the room for a moment.
When he turned around, his face was composed in a way that Claire recognized.
It was the same face he'd worn at their mother's funeral — not the absence of feeling, but feeling held very carefully in both hands so it didn't spill.
"I need to call Gerald Marsh first thing tomorrow," he said.
"I need to know the exact state of the estate documents.
And I need to know whether Sophia has any legal claim to anything if we—" He stopped.
"If you separate," Claire said gently.
He nodded once.
"I also need to pull the bank records.
All of them.
Going back as far as I can." He set the glass down.
"And I need to find Patrick Alderton."
Richard looked up.
"If she did this to him," Ethan said, "he deserves to know it wasn't just him.
And I might need him to tell his story."
The room was quiet for a moment.
Then Ethan's phone lit up on the table.
A text message.
From Sophia.
*You'll regret this.
I promise you that.
May you like
I know things about your father that will destroy him.
Call me back before morning or I go straight to the press.*
