Chapter 7: What Victoria Still Had
Daniel read the message twice.
He set the phone back on the table, face-up, and looked at it the way you look at something dangerous you are deciding how to handle.
"She's threatening you," Aunt Ruth said.
It was not a question.
"She's threatening Eleanor," Daniel said.
"Through Eleanor.
To get to me."
"What does she have?" Chloe said.
"What could she possibly—"
"I don't know," Daniel said.
But something in the way he said it made me look at him more carefully.
"Dad."
He looked at me.
"Is there something she could have?"
A pause.
Not long.
But there.
"Seven years ago," he said slowly, "before I knew the full picture of what she was doing, I signed a document she brought me.
She told me it was a revised household management agreement — something our accountant had recommended for tax purposes." He stopped.
"I didn't read it carefully enough.
I signed it in the kitchen on a Tuesday evening and thought nothing of it."
The room was very quiet.
"What was it really?" Aunt Ruth asked.
"I don't know.
I never saw it again.
I assumed it had gone to the accountant." He looked at Thomas's empty chair.
"It may not be anything.
But Victoria may have kept a copy."
"She's bluffing," Chloe said.
But she didn't sound certain.
"She may be," Daniel said.
"Or she may have something that complicates the complaint."
"We need Thomas back," Aunt Ruth said.
Daniel was already picking up his phone.
Forty minutes later, Thomas was back in room 14, his briefcase open again, the message printed from my phone and sitting on the table in front of him.
"This is a threat," Thomas said.
"In writing.
That is a significant miscalculation on her part.
It actually strengthens your position."
"What about the document she may have?" Daniel asked.
"Describe it as precisely as you can."
Daniel described it.
Thomas listened without interrupting.
When Daniel finished, Thomas took off his glasses and turned them slowly in his hands.
"If she altered the description of a household document to obtain your signature for another purpose, that is forgery.
If she then uses it to threaten you into withdrawing a legitimate legal complaint, that is blackmail." He put his glasses back on.
"She has given us more, not less."
Chloe stood up abruptly and walked out of the room without a word.
We heard her footsteps in the corridor.
Quick.
Sharp.
Daniel looked at the door.
"Let her go," Aunt Ruth said gently.
"She's going to her mother."
"She should," I said.
Daniel looked at me.
"She loves her," I said.
"That doesn't make what Victoria did acceptable.
But Chloe finding out her mother may face criminal charges — she needs a moment with that." I paused.
"I know what it is to lose a parent.
Even badly.
You should let her have those minutes."
Daniel looked at me for a long time.
His eyes were tired and full of something I didn't have a word for yet.
"When did you become so measured about all of this?" he asked.
"I had a lot of years to practise," I said.
Thomas collected the printed message.
"I'll contact the police liaison I work with.
Given the explicit threat, they should be aware.
It may accelerate the timeline considerably." He looked at Daniel.
"She may attempt to leave."
"I know," Daniel said.
"Do you want me to contact the hotel security office?
Discreetly."
"Yes," Daniel said.
"Discreetly."
Thomas left again.
Daniel stood at the window.
Aunt Ruth sat with her tea, which had gone cold.
I picked up my phone and looked at the message again.
*Drop this.
You have no idea what I still have on your father.
Walk away or I'll use it.*
I thought about the thirteen-year-old version of myself standing in the doorway of a house that was supposed to become my home, a suitcase in my hand, Victoria looking at me with a smile that never reached her eyes.
I thought about every dinner table where I had been made to feel like a guest who had stayed too long.
I thought about my grandmother, who had always called me by name, who had always saved me the seat beside her, who had passed away while a fund meant for her comfort was quietly being emptied.
I typed back one sentence.
*Do what you feel you must.*
Then I set the phone face-down.
"Eleanor," Aunt Ruth said.
"I'm all right," I said.
She reached across and put her hand over mine.
May you like
She didn't say anything else.
She didn't need to.
