Chapter 4 - My Mother’s Signature
I read my mother’s statement three times.
Each time it hurt more.
She claimed I had experienced “dangerous emotional episodes.”
She claimed I forgot appointments.
She claimed I once threatened to disappear with the babies.
She claimed Ethan had privately expressed concerns about my judgment.
Every sentence was a lie.
But the last paragraph was worse.
In my opinion, Claire should not temporarily retain sole custody of the newborn children until a psychiatric evaluation can be completed.
Signed,
Denise Hale.
My own mother.
I pressed the page against the blanket.
“She knew.”
Margaret nodded.
“She signed it two days before Ethan died.”
That detail destroyed whatever excuse I might have made for her.
This had not been panic after a sudden death.
It had been prepared.
“They planned this.”
“Yes.”
“Before Ethan died.”
Margaret did not answer.
She did not need to.
A knock sounded.
Detective Sloan entered.
“Your father and the others have been escorted from the maternity floor.”
“Arrested?”
“Not yet.”
I hated those words.
Sloan saw it.
“We move carefully when financial crimes, custody issues, and a possible suspicious death overlap.”
I looked down at Lily.
“How carefully do I have to move when they already tried to take my son?”
Sloan’s expression softened.
“You don’t.
We do.”
She handed me her card.
“There will be an officer stationed outside tonight.”
“Thank you.”
She started toward the door.
Then she stopped.
“Mrs. Walker, one question.”
“Yes?”
“Did Ethan own a storage unit?”
I frowned.
“Not that I know of.”
“Safe deposit box?”
“We had one downtown.”
“Did Mark know about it?”
“Probably.
He worked with Ethan.”
Sloan nodded.
“We’ll talk tomorrow.”
After she left, Margaret began making calls.
I sat between my sleeping babies and stared at Ethan’s letter.
Then my phone vibrated.
MOM.
I let it ring.
It stopped.
Immediately, a text appeared.
Please answer.
I ignored it.
Another message came.
Your father has gone too far.
I froze.
Then another.
There are things I never told you.
I stared at the screen.
Margaret noticed.
“Who is it?”
“My mother.”
“Do not meet her alone.”
I typed slowly.
Then tell the police.
Three dots appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Finally she replied.
I can’t.
He’ll know.
I felt anger rise through my exhaustion.
Dad already knew everything.
He controlled the lies.
The companies.
The legal filings.
Apparently my mother too.
Then another message appeared.
Claire, Ethan came to see me the night before he died.
I sat upright.
Margaret looked over.
“What?”
I showed her.
My phone rang again.
This time I answered.
“Mom.”
She was crying.
“Claire, I am so sorry.”
“What did Ethan say to you?”
Silence.
“Mom.”
“He knew about the money.”
“I know that.”
“He knew about Mark.”
“I know.”
“No.”
Her voice dropped.
“You don’t.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What did Mark do?”
My mother began sobbing harder.
Then a man’s voice sounded faintly in the background.
“Denise?”
Dad.
Mom gasped.
The call disconnected.
I immediately called back.
No answer.
Again.
Nothing.
Margaret stood.
“We need Sloan.”
Before she could reach the door, my phone buzzed once more.
This time it was a photograph from Mom.
It showed a small black flash drive resting in a kitchen drawer.
Beneath it she had typed six words.
May you like
ETHAN SAID THIS COULD PROVE EVERYTHING.
*
