Chapter 7 - The Reading of the Will
The house was quiet after the funeral.
The mourners had gone home,
leaving Daniel,
Monica,
and Arthur alone in the study.
Sarah and I were parked down the street,
monitoring the house with a long-range microphone Sarah had borrowed from her brother.
“The will is here,”
Arthur’s voice came through the speaker,
clear and cold.
“Sign here,
Daniel.”
“And here.”
I listened to the scratch of the pen on paper.
The sound of my life being signed away.
“Now for the offshore accounts,”
Monica said.
“The codes,
Arthur.”
“In due time,
my dear,”
Arthur replied.
“First,
we need to clear the insurance claim.”
“Two million dollars,”
Daniel said.
“It’s more than enough to start over in Europe.”
They were planning their escape.
They were going to leave the wreckage of my life behind and start fresh with my money.
“We need to move now,”
I said to Sarah.
“Before they leave.”
“I’ve already called the investigator,”
Sarah said.
“He’s waiting at the back gate.”
We drove to the house,
the gravel crunching under the tires.
I felt a sense of calm wash over me.
The fear was gone.
The paralysis was gone.
Only the reckoning remained.
We walked toward the front door,
the house I had called home for fifteen years.
I didn't knock.
I had my own key.
I slipped it into the lock and turned it.
The door opened with a soft click.
I stepped into the foyer,
the smell of lilies still lingering in the air.
I walked toward the study,
the voices inside growing louder.
They were laughing now,
the sound of ice clinking in glasses.
I pushed the doors open.
The room went silent.
Daniel was sitting at my father’s desk,
a glass of scotch in his hand.
Monica was leaning against the bookshelf,
the gold necklace around her neck.
Arthur was standing by the window,
a cigarette in his mouth.
They all looked at me.
Their faces went from triumph to terror in a heartbeat.
“Hello,
Daniel,”
I said,
May you like
my voice sounding like a bell in the quiet room.
“Did you think I would stay in the hole you dug for me?”
