Chapter 4: What Nora Knew
The date at the top of the letter was eleven months ago.
Three months before Nora died.
My hands were not steady when I read it.
*Heloise — I need you to stop.
I know what you've been doing with the accounts.
I know about the transfers.
If you don't stop, I will tell Daniel everything, and I will do it before the end of the month.
This is the last time I will ask you.*
That was all.
No signature.
Nora had never finished it — or never sent it.
I sat down on the kitchen floor.
Not because my legs gave out.
Because it was the only thing that made sense in that moment.
To sit on the floor where my daughter had slept and read my dead wife's words to the woman who had taken her place in this house.
My phone buzzed again.
Dara.
*Are you still there?*
*Yes,* I typed.
*Tomorrow morning.
Tell me where.*
---
She was already seated when I arrived at the café.
Small woman, dark coat, hands wrapped around a coffee cup she hadn't drunk from.
She stood when she saw me, and for a moment neither of us said anything.
She had the look of someone who had been carrying something heavy for a long time and wasn't sure yet whether to put it down.
"You look like her," Dara said.
"The way Nora described you."
I sat across from her.
"How long have you known?"
"About the accounts?
About a year.
About what she was doing to Thora?" She stopped.
Set the cup down.
"I suspected for the last two months.
I didn't have proof until six weeks ago."
"What kind of proof?"
She reached into her bag and pulled out a small envelope.
Inside were printed photographs — screenshots from a shared cloud account.
Bank transfer records.
Dates.
Amounts.
A separate account in Heloise's name that had been receiving regular transfers from the household account for the past eight months.
"She had access to everything," Dara said.
"Nora gave it to her years ago, before things went wrong between them.
By the time Nora realized what Heloise was doing, she was already sick.
She didn't have the strength to fight it."
"She wrote her a letter," I said.
"I found it last night."
Dara looked up.
"Did Heloise know about the letter?"
"I don't think so.
It was never sent."
"Then she doesn't know what Nora found." Dara leaned forward.
"Daniel.
The transfers didn't stop when Nora died.
They accelerated.
In the last eight months, she has moved nearly forty thousand dollars out of your accounts.
I have every record."
The number landed like something physical.
"Why didn't you come to me sooner?" I asked.
She looked at her hands.
"Because Heloise told everyone who knew Nora that I had become unstable after my divorce.
That I had a history of making false accusations.
She got there first.
She always gets there first." She finally looked up.
"I needed enough that you couldn't dismiss me.
I needed it to be undeniable."
I looked at the photographs spread between us on the table.
"It's undeniable," I said.
She nodded slowly.
Then: "There's one more thing.
The co-management agreement she had you sign." She pulled out another page.
"I had a solicitor friend look at it.
The *emotionally unfit* clause — it's not standard language.
It was inserted.
And the signature line for the witnessing solicitor?" She pointed.
"That's not a real firm.
I checked.
The address doesn't exist."
The café was warm.
I felt cold anyway.
"She forged the witness," I said.
"The whole document may be fraudulent," Dara said.
"Which means she has nothing.
But she doesn't know that you know."
May you like
I looked at the page for a long moment.
"Then let's make sure she doesn't find out," I said, "until it's too late for her to run."
