Chapter 8 - The File With Alistair's Name on ItThe first video made Alistair look terrible.
He knew that immediately.
He stood in the kitchen, angry, pointing toward the back door.
His voice was raised.
“I told you three times. Get out.”
The clip ended.
No context.
Alistair remembered the incident.
A contractor had entered the house while Theo was home alone upstairs after being told to wait outside.
The man's company had already been warned twice about unauthorized entry.
Alistair had been furious.
The video showed none of that.
The second recording was audio.
Alistair speaking to Willa.
“If you keep lying to me, there are going to be consequences.”
He closed his eyes.
“What was that?”
Beatrice remembered.
“The school tablet.”
Willa had denied breaking it because she was scared.
A normal parenting argument.
Cut into sixteen seconds.
Another video.
Alistair slamming the office door.
Another.
Alistair drinking whiskey alone.
Another.
An argument with Corinne.
His voice:
“I am not discussing this again.”
Her voice, softer:
“You always shut me down.”
The recording stopped before her next sentence.
Rachel looked at him.
“Do you remember that argument?”
“Yes.”
“About?”
“She wanted access to Elise's trust records.”
Everything clicked.
Corinne had been collecting moments where Alistair appeared angry, dismissive, stressed, or intoxicated.
Not fabricated.
Selected.
“Could this get my children taken from me?”
Rachel shook her head.
“Not from these clips alone.”
“But?”
“They could support a narrative.”
“Absent father. Angry father.”
“Potentially.”
Alistair looked sick.
“What was the lever?”
Rachel opened Corinne's draft notes.
If Ali refuses continuation:
Provide clinician with history of unstable response.
Emphasize alcohol use.
Raise concerns regarding emotional safety.
Petition for temporary decision-making authority if necessary.
Alistair laughed.
“Alcohol use.”
He drank one or two drinks a few nights a week.
Occasionally more at business events.
Never while solely responsible for the children.
But photographs could tell another story.
Bottle on desk.
Glass in hand.
Sleeping on couch after a Christmas party.
Truth stripped of proportion.
Beatrice whispered:
“She was preparing to say you were dangerous.”
“Not exactly.”
Rachel pointed.
“She was preparing to say he was unstable under pressure.”
Alistair looked at her.
“Is that better?”
“No.”
His phone buzzed.
Willa.
She was upstairs but had sent a message.
CAN I COME DOWN?
He almost smiled.
She had learned adults were talking.
He replied:
GIVE ME TEN MINUTES.
Then locked the phone.
“What do I tell them?”
Rachel answered carefully.
“The truth they need.”
“They already think I signed papers sending them away.”
“Then show them you didn't.”
“They heard Corinne say I'm unstable.”
“Did they?”
Alistair looked at Beatrice.
She nodded.
Willa had told her.
Of course.
Corinne had not built the narrative only for professionals.
She had seeded it inside the children.
If Dad gets angry, he might not want you.
If Dad sends you away, it's because you're difficult.
If Dad denies signing, he's lying.
Alistair stood.
“I want to see Corinne.”
Rachel immediately shook her head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you're furious.”
“Yes.”
“And anything you say can become part of exactly the file we're discussing.”
He hated that.
“She's using my calm against me if I stay silent and my anger against me if I react.”
“Then don't perform for her.”
Rachel leaned forward.
“Protect the children, not your pride.”
That stopped him.
Alistair sat.
“Fine.”
An hour later, Detective Brennan came to the house.
She had more recovered messages.
Corinne discussing the “incident file” with Malcolm.
One message stood out.
CORINNE: HE'LL LOSE IT WHEN HE FINDS OUT.
MALCOLM: GOOD. LET HIM.
Alistair stared.
“They expected me to discover the placement after the children were gone.”
“Yes,” Brennan said.
“And wanted me angry.”
“That's one interpretation.”
“What other interpretation is there?”
“That they expected anger and intended to document it.”
Same result.
“What would they do with it?”
“Potential family-court proceeding. Possibly pressure related to the trust.”
Alistair looked at the ceiling.
He remembered every moment in the last year when Corinne had seemed unusually calm during arguments.
How often had her phone been recording?
Brennan continued.
“There's another person in the messages.”
“Who?”
“Dr. Julianne Frost.”
The counselor.
“What does she say?”
“Her messages are more cautious.”
“Did she know the signatures were fake?”
“We don't know.”
“Did she recommend Stone Ridge?”
“Yes.”
Alistair's jaw tightened.
“Without ever talking to me.”
“She was told you refused to participate.”
“I was never asked.”
Brennan nodded.
“We're contacting her licensing board and obtaining records.”
Alistair exhaled.
“What did she actually observe?”
“Apparently very little. Most sessions included Corinne.”
That made sense.
Children criticized Corinne while Corinne sat nearby.
Resistance became pathology.
“What about Malcolm?”
“He's claiming he believed you consented.”
“Of course.”
“He says Corinne handled all communication.”
“Did he forge my signature?”
“We don't know.”
Alistair stared at the incident file.
Then Beatrice spoke.
“What about the hallway camera?”
Everyone turned.
“What?”
“The main-floor security camera.”
Alistair frowned.
“It doesn't cover the office.”
“No.”
Beatrice pointed toward the screen.
“But it covers Corinne entering with her phone.”
Rachel understood.
“If timestamps match recordings, we may establish how often she intentionally positioned the device.”
Alistair looked at Beatrice.
“Can we access history?”
“Thirty days.”
They pulled it.
Within twenty minutes, they found something worse.
Three weeks earlier.
11:42 p.m.
Corinne entered the dining room.
Malcolm followed.
They placed papers on the table.
Corinne opened a laptop.
Malcolm pointed at a document.
Then he took a pen.
And practiced Alistair's signature.
Again.
Again.
Again.
The camera had no clear audio.
It didn't need any.
Alistair watched his own name being rehearsed on paper.
Then Malcolm held up the final version.
Corinne smiled.
And kissed her brother on the cheek.
May you like
The forgery wasn't an assumption anymore.
It had been planned inside Alistair's own home.
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