Chapter 5 - Nora Had Been Afraid Before She DiedReid drove home alone.
For ten months, he had carried one version of Nora’s final weeks.
Exhaustion.
A newborn.
Chest pain dismissed as postpartum recovery.
A sudden hospital admission.
Then death.
There had been no room in that memory for legal meetings.
Mavis.
Guardianship.
Fear.
He found Nora’s old tablet in a bedroom drawer.
He had never opened it after she died.
Too painful.
Her wallpaper was still a photograph of Landon holding newborn Evan.
Reid entered the passcode.
Their anniversary.
The home screen appeared.
Emails.
Photos.
Calendar.
He searched Mavis.
Dozens of results.
Most ordinary.
Mavis can take Landon Tuesday.
Mavis bringing groceries.
Ask Mavis about guest room sheets.
Then something changed six weeks before Nora died.
Nora to Camille Hart, her older sister:
Mavis is asking strange questions about what happens to the boys if Reid has a breakdown.
Reid’s hand tightened.
Next message:
She keeps saying grief changes men.
Grief?
Nora was alive when she wrote it.
Why was Mavis already talking about Reid grieving?
Reid opened the full thread.
Camille replied:
That’s creepy. Grief over what?
Nora:
Exactly.
Reid felt ice move through him.
Another message, two days later:
I think she meant Dad dying, but Everett died months ago. Reid handled it. This feels different.
Everett Mercer had died eight months before Nora.
Reid grieved his father.
He did not break down.
Why would Mavis assume another collapse?
Then:
Mavis asked whether I have a will naming a guardian.
Camille:
Do you?
Nora:
Yes. You.
Reid stared.
He had forgotten.
Years earlier, he and Nora created reciprocal wills.
If both died, Camille would be preferred guardian.
If Nora died alone, Reid remained parent automatically.
Mavis had no role.
Another message:
She looked angry when I said you.
Reid closed his eyes.
He searched Thomas Keene.
Found an email.
Nora to Thomas:
I need certified copies of Everett’s trust and the boys’ beneficiary provisions. Please do not notify Mavis or Nolan.
Thomas replied:
Of course. Is there a specific concern?
Nora:
Yes. I think someone is trying to position Nolan to control the boys’ shares if anything happens to Reid or me.
Reid stared at the date.
Five weeks before Nora died.
Thomas had known.
Maybe not the full plan.
Enough.
Another email.
Thomas:
The original trust does not allow Nolan automatic voting authority. Any claim otherwise would be inconsistent with Everett’s executed documents.
Reid’s heart pounded.
Thomas had explicitly told Nora.
Yet months later his firm produced a version doing exactly that.
Why?
He searched further.
No reply from Nora.
Then one draft email.
Never sent.
To Reid.
Subject:
We need to talk about Mavis.
Reid opened it.
Reid,
I don’t want to sound paranoid, especially while you’re dealing with the board mess, but Mavis has been asking too many questions about the children’s trust and what happens if one of us becomes “unavailable.”
She used that word twice.
Unavailable.
I caught her photographing documents in your office yesterday.
When I confronted her, she said Nolan needed information for tax planning.
I don’t believe her.
I called Thomas. He says the trust is safe, but I want outside copies somewhere Mavis cannot reach.
There’s another thing.
Reid stopped.
The next paragraph:
Mavis keeps saying Evan looks “different” from you and Landon.
She said your father would have questioned whether Evan belongs in the Mercer trust.
I told her never to say that again.
If she is thinking about challenging Evan’s paternity, I want DNA records preserved before she can make this uglier.
Reid’s vision blurred.
That explained bastard.
Mavis was not simply insulting the baby.
She had been constructing another route.
If Evan could be removed as a beneficiary—
more trust control shifted elsewhere.
Reid read on.
I’m probably overreacting. Maybe lack of sleep is making everything feel sinister.
I’ll talk to you after your Chicago trip.
She never did.
Two days later, Nora developed severe shortness of breath.
Four days later, she was hospitalized.
Within a week, she was gone.
Reid sat in darkness with the tablet.
He did not think Mavis killed Nora.
Nothing suggested that.
Nora’s death had a clear medical cause.
But Mavis benefited from the silence death created.
That distinction was chilling enough.
Reid called Camille.
She answered:
“Hey.”
“Did Nora talk to you about Mavis?”
Silence.
“Camille.”
“Yes.”
He stood.
“How much?”
“She was worried.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Camille’s voice cracked.
“Because she died, Reid.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“You were barely functioning.”
“So everyone decided what I could handle.”
“I thought it was paranoia from exhaustion.”
“She emailed Thomas.”
“I know.”
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
Reid closed his eyes.
“Did she leave anything with you?”
Another silence.
Then Camille said:
“One envelope.”
His pulse accelerated.
“What envelope?”
“She gave it to me two weeks before she died.”
“What does it say?”
“I never opened it.”
“Why?”
“Because it has your name on it.”
Reid stared into the dark room.
“Where is it?”
“In my safe.”
“When can I get it?”
“Tomorrow.”
“No.”
May you like
He picked up his keys.
“Tonight.”
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