Chapter 3 - Chloe Heard Everything
Arthur stopped two feet from the closet.
“Rebecca?”
I remained still.
Then someone knocked on the bedroom door.
“Mom?”
Chloe.
Arthur turned instantly.
That gave me enough time.
I stepped out.
Arthur spun back.
His expression changed when he saw the phone in my hand.
“You were hiding?”
“I was recording.”
Silence.
Then the doorknob moved.
“Mom?”
Arthur looked at the phone.
Then at me.
“Turn that off.”
“No.”
“Rebecca.”
“Open the door.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Open it.”
Chloe knocked harder.
“Dad?”
Arthur unlocked the door.
Chloe stepped inside.
She looked from him to me.
Then to the glass on the nightstand.
“What’s happening?”
Arthur answered first.
“Your mother is having another episode.”
I stared at him.
Chloe’s face changed.
“What episode?”
“She’s been confused.”
“I’m not confused.”
Arthur sighed like I was proving his point.
“Rebecca, please.”
That tone almost worked.
Almost.
Then Chloe saw my wrist.
Red marks were already appearing where Arthur had gripped me.
Her expression hardened.
“Dad.”
Arthur looked down.
“It wasn’t like that.”
“What wasn’t?”
“She wouldn’t drink anything.”
Chloe looked at the juice.
Then at me.
“Why?”
I held up the phone.
“Because he tried to force me.”
Arthur stepped toward her.
“Chloe, your mother is scared.”
“So am I.”
That stopped him.
Chloe crossed the room and stood beside me.
“What’s in the glass?”
Arthur’s jaw tightened.
“Orange juice.”
“Then why did you take it away when I came in?”
He said nothing.
Chloe noticed.
I did too.
Arthur looked toward the hallway.
“I’m done with this.”
He walked out.
We heard him go downstairs.
Then the garage door opened.
A car started.
Chloe immediately locked the bedroom door.
“Mom.”
“I’m okay.”
“No, you’re not.”
She looked at my wrist.
Then at the glass.
“What do we do?”
I called my doctor first.
Then a friend named Melanie Brooks, an attorney who had handled my mother’s estate.
Melanie did not tell me to confront Arthur.
She told me to preserve everything.
The recording.
The glass.
The timeline.
Then she said something I had not considered.
“Rebecca, does Arthur know you rejected the guarantee for his development project?”
“Yes.”
“And your symptoms started after that?”
I went silent.
Chloe looked at me.
“What?”
I told her.
Her face tightened.
Then she asked, “Could Dad get control of Grandma’s trust if something happened to you?”
“No.”
“What if you were alive but couldn’t manage it?”
That question was different.
I stared at her.
My mother’s trust documents allowed a successor trustee to step in if I became medically incapacitated.
Not Arthur automatically.
But several people could trigger the review process.
Including a physician.
Chloe whispered, “Dad keeps going to your appointments.”
My stomach turned.
“He does.”
“And telling the doctor you’re confused.”
I sat down.
For the first time, the pattern connected.
Maybe Arthur did not need me dead.
Maybe he needed me declared incapable.
Then Chloe said something even worse.
“Mom, I heard Dad talking about you last week.”
“What?”
“He didn’t know I was home.”
“With who?”
“I don’t know.”
“What did he say?”
Chloe swallowed.
“He said, ‘She’s almost ready. I just need the doctor to agree something is seriously wrong.’”
I felt cold.
May you like
Arthur had not been waiting for my condition to improve.
He had been building a case around it.
