Chapter 6 - Her Mother Had Been Talking to Richard for MonthsClaire called Susan Hart before leaving Rebecca’s office.
Her mother answered after four rings.
“Claire?”
“Have you been talking to Richard?”
Silence.
Claire closed her eyes.
“Mom.”
“He called me a few times.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“How long?”
Susan hesitated.
“Several months.”
Claire felt betrayed in a way she hadn’t expected.
“About me?”
“He was worried.”
“About what?”
“Your stress. Your mood. The marriage.”
Claire stared through the office window.
Traffic moved below.
Normal people living normal mornings.
“Did it occur to you to call me?”
“I didn’t want to interfere.”
“But talking privately with my husband about my mental state wasn’t interfering?”
“That’s not fair.”
Claire laughed.
“Nothing about this is fair.”
Susan became defensive.
“Richard said you’d become suspicious of everything he did.”
“He stole money.”
“He said the investments were complicated.”
“He forged my signature on a refinance application.”
Silence.
“What?”
Claire stopped.
“He didn’t tell you?”
“No.”
“He’s also been sleeping with another woman for ten months.”
Susan inhaled sharply.
“He told me you accused him of cheating but had no proof.”
“His mistress is sitting twenty feet from me.”
Another silence.
Claire continued.
“And yesterday he slapped Emma across the face while she had a fever.”
“He told me Emma broke some dishes and you walked in during an argument.”
“He hit her.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“You didn’t ask.”
Susan’s voice softened.
“Claire…”
“No. Did you agree to testify for him?”
The silence answered first.
Then Susan whispered, “He asked me to say you’ve been emotional.”
Claire felt something hollow open inside her.
“Would you?”
“I only said I would tell the truth.”
“What truth? That I’ve been upset while my husband empties accounts and terrorizes our daughter?”
“Claire, I didn’t know.”
“You chose not to know.”
That hurt Susan.
Claire could hear it.
Part of her felt guilty.
Another part refused to rescue everyone from consequences anymore.
“Don’t sign anything,” Claire said.
“I haven’t.”
“Don’t speak to his attorney.”
“I won’t.”
Claire almost ended the call.
Then Susan said, “There is something you should know too.”
Claire paused.
“What?”
“Your father never trusted Richard.”
Claire frowned.
Her father had died six years earlier.
She knew he and Richard never liked each other, but she had always blamed personality differences.
“What does that have to do with this?”
Susan lowered her voice.
“He loaned Richard money.”
Claire stopped walking.
“How much?”
“A lot.”
“How much, Mom?”
“One hundred eighty thousand dollars.”
Claire stared ahead.
“For what?”
“Richard said his company needed temporary capital.”
“When?”
“Eleven years ago.”
Claire did the math.
Shortly after the wedding.
“Did he repay it?”
“No.”
Claire sat down.
“What?”
“Your father kept asking. Richard kept delaying.”
“Why did nobody tell me?”
“Your father didn’t want you caught in the middle.”
Claire laughed bitterly.
“He protected me by hiding a six-figure debt from me?”
“He regretted it.”
“Do you have proof?”
“Yes.”
Claire’s anger disappeared.
“What kind?”
“Promissory notes. Emails.”
Her father had died believing Richard owed him almost two hundred thousand dollars.
Richard had never mentioned a cent.
Susan continued.
“Your father wrote something for you before he died.”
Claire’s heartbeat changed.
“What?”
“A letter.”
Claire closed her eyes.
“Why haven’t I seen it?”
“He asked me to give it to you only if Richard ever became… dangerous.”
Claire stopped breathing.
“Dangerous?”
“I thought he was being dramatic.”
Claire looked through the glass wall toward Madeline and Rebecca.
Nothing felt dramatic anymore.
“I need that letter.”
Susan agreed to fly in the next morning.
Claire returned home to Emma.
The child’s fever had dropped.
She was sitting on the couch coloring.
Claire kissed her forehead.
“How do you feel?”
“Better.”
Emma looked toward the kitchen.
“Are the plates still there?”
“No. I cleaned everything.”
“Is Dad mad?”
Claire sat beside her.
“Dad isn’t here.”
Emma’s shoulders relaxed visibly.
Claire hated seeing relief where missing a parent should have been.
“Sweetheart, has Dad ever hit you before yesterday?”
Emma stopped coloring.
Claire waited.
No pressure.
No demand.
Finally, Emma nodded.
Claire’s heart cracked.
“Where?”
“Sometimes my hand.”
“Anywhere else?”
“My arm.”
“What happened?”
“I was slow.”
“Slow doing what?”
“Cleaning.”
Claire fought to keep her face calm.
“How often did Dad make you clean when I wasn’t home?”
Emma shrugged.
“A lot.”
“You never told me.”
Emma looked down.
“Dad said you already had too much to worry about.”
There it was again.
Richard had used Claire’s love against the child.
“Did he tell you not to tell me?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
Emma’s eyes filled.
“He said you might leave.”
Claire’s throat tightened.
“And you thought I would leave you?”
Emma nodded.
Claire immediately pulled her close.
“I would never leave you.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I’m so sorry.”
Emma cried against her.
That evening Claire called Rebecca.
The attorney listened quietly.
“We need a child therapist involved,” she said. “Someone neutral and trauma-informed.”
“Yes.”
“And Claire?”
“What?”
“Do not repeatedly question Emma yourself. Let professionals handle detailed disclosures.”
Claire understood.
She wanted truth.
But Emma needed safety more.
That night mother and daughter slept in the same bed.
At 2:11 a.m., Claire’s phone vibrated.
Unknown sender.
No message.
Only a photograph.
Claire opened it.
Her stomach dropped.
It was a picture of her bedroom window.
Taken from outside.
Tonight.
May you like
A second message appeared.
YOU SHOULD CLOSE YOUR CURTAINS.
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