Chapter 9 - Isabel's Last Picture)
Henry had noticed the package earlier that evening.
Four names were written across the paper in colored pencil.
Valerie.
Camila.
Regina.
Sophie.
Underneath was one word.
Daddy.
When police began moving people from the ballroom, Henry worried the gift might be lost or damaged.
So he placed it in the trunk of his car.
Now he handed it to Alexander.
The girls crowded close.
Alexander sat on the ballroom floor.
He opened the paper carefully.
Inside was a wooden picture frame painted with uneven stars.
A photograph sat behind the glass.
Isabel holding all four girls as babies.
Alexander stopped breathing for a moment.
He had taken that photograph.
Christmas morning.
Their first Christmas.
The girls were seven months old.
Isabel looked exhausted and completely happy.
Alexander touched the glass.
Valerie said,
"We found it in Mommy's box."
"It's beautiful."
Sophie pointed.
"Open the back."
Alexander turned the frame.
Cardboard tabs held the photograph.
He opened them.
Behind the picture was a folded piece of paper.
Four names were written again.
Then a sentence in Valerie's careful handwriting.
Daddy please listen when you are alone.
Taped beneath the note was a silver memory card.
Rebecca exhaled.
Alexander did not move.
Valerie whispered,
"We didn't want Vanessa to know."
He looked at her.
"How long have you been afraid of her?"
Valerie looked at her sisters.
"After you married."
Alexander felt as if the floor shifted.
"That long?"
"Not bad at first."
Camila said,
"She was nice when you were home."
Regina added,
"And when cameras were on."
Alexander closed his eyes.
He had recorded family videos.
Vanessa smiled in every one.
Rebecca took the card.
"I'll make copies before we listen."
"No."
She looked at Alexander.
He clarified.
"Make copies. Then we listen together."
The girls returned upstairs with Henry.
Daniel duplicated the card onto three encrypted drives.
At two sixteen in the morning, Alexander sat with Rebecca and listened.
The first files were harmless whispers.
The girls documenting meals.
Arguments.
Punishments.
Then came a recording from November.
Vanessa's voice.
Your father doesn't want four crying babies around forever.
Valerie said,
We're not babies.
Vanessa laughed.
You think that matters? Men like your father get tired of problems.
Another recording.
Camila asking why the refrigerator had a lock.
Vanessa replying,
Because you steal food.
Alexander paused it.
"The refrigerator?"
Daniel looked confused.
"There's no lock now."
They went to the kitchen.
A silver refrigerator stood behind the main prep island.
No lock.
But four small holes were visible near the handles.
Something had been removed.
Daniel photographed them.
They returned to the recording.
December fifth.
Sophie crying.
Vanessa threatening to send Oliver to the trash.
December eighth.
Regina whispering that Vanessa had made Valerie stand in the laundry room for two hours.
December eleventh.
A voice Alexander recognized.
Cynthia.
Vanessa's friend.
Cynthia laughed.
You really keep them in there?
Vanessa answered.
Only when they need reminding.
Cynthia asked,
What if Alexander finds out?
Vanessa laughed.
Alexander sees what I show him.
Nobody in the library moved.
The recording continued.
Cynthia again.
And Switzerland?
After Christmas.
He'll sign anything when the market deal closes.
Vanessa answered.
He already signed it.
Cynthia said,
You forged it?
Vanessa laughed.
Don't sound so shocked.
Rebecca stopped the recording.
"That's enough for criminal fraud."
Alexander stared at the laptop.
Daniel said,
"There's more."
They continued.
The worst recording came from December nineteenth.
The girls were apparently in the dining room.
Vanessa was speaking to someone on the phone.
Alexander could not hear the person on the other end.
Vanessa said,
Once they're overseas, I don't care how often he visits.
Pause.
No, he won't divorce me.
Pause.
Because then I get what the prenup allows.
Pause.
And if he wants custody trouble, I'll use the temper issue.
Alexander frowned.
"Temper issue?"
Rebecca looked at him.
"She may have been planning to provoke you."
Daniel said, "The bat tonight."
Alexander remembered the object sitting conveniently beside the dining room entrance.
It had been moved from his office.
"Was that there before?"
Henry, listening from the doorway, answered.
"No."
Alexander turned.
Henry continued.
"The bat was in your office last week."
Rebecca's face sharpened.
"Who moved it?"
Henry looked toward the hallway.
"I don't know."
Alexander thought about Vanessa dropping bread on the floor in front of him.
Her contempt.
Her deliberate cruelty.
Had she been drunk and careless?
Or had she wanted him to react?
Rebecca replayed the recording.
Temper issue.
Alexander's stomach tightened.
"She wanted evidence against me."
"Possibly," Rebecca said.
"Why?"
"Custody leverage. Divorce leverage. Financial leverage."
Daniel stared at the screen.
"Maybe all three."
Alexander stood.
He walked toward the window.
Rain streaked the glass.
At some point after midnight, the storm had become snow.
The gardens were turning white.
Rebecca said,
"Alexander."
He did not turn.
"There's one more folder."
"What?"
"Not audio."
Daniel opened it.
Scanned documents appeared.
Regina had accidentally copied other files from Alexander's office memory card months earlier.
Most were old photographs.
One was a handwritten letter.
Isabel's handwriting.
Alexander turned around.
His face changed.
"Where did that come from?"
Daniel opened it.
The document was dated eight days before Isabel died.
Alexander sat.
He had never seen the letter.
Rebecca asked softly,
"Do you want me to close it?"
"No."
Alexander began reading.
It was addressed to him.
Not a farewell letter.
Isabel had written it after an argument they had about his work schedule.
Alexander remembered the argument.
He had missed a school event.
She had been furious.
The letter said she knew he loved his family.
It also said love could become invisible when a person assumed there would always be more time.
Alexander stopped halfway through.
His vision blurred.
Near the end Isabel had written a sentence that seemed to reach across two years.
If anything ever happens to me, do not love our girls only by protecting their future. Protect their ordinary days. Eat breakfast with them. Hear the boring stories. Notice when they become quiet.
Alexander covered his mouth.
Rebecca looked away.
Daniel lowered his head.
Alexander read the final sentence.
They will tell you what they need, even when they do not know how to say it.
He folded forward.
For two years he had believed building financial security for his daughters was an act of devotion.
He had expanded the company.
Purchased properties.
Built trusts.
Worked sixteen-hour days.
And while he was protecting their future, he had stopped noticing their ordinary days.
Hours later, as dawn arrived, Alexander walked upstairs.
All four girls were asleep across his bed.
Sophie still held the torn rabbit.
Alexander sat on the floor beside them.
He did not make grand promises.
He did not wake them.
He simply stayed.
At seven fourteen, Valerie opened her eyes.
She looked at him.
"You're still here."
Alexander nodded.
"Yes."
She smiled.
It was small.
Uncertain.
But real.
Then the doorbell rang.
Rebecca came upstairs moments later.
Her expression was serious.
"Alexander."
"What?"
"Vanessa's attorney is here."
"So?"
Rebecca hesitated.
"He's not asking for her belongings."
Alexander stood.
"What does he want?"
Rebecca looked toward the girls.
"Temporary access to the house."
"Absolutely not."
"There's more."
Alexander waited.
"Vanessa filed something before sunrise."
His stomach turned.
"What?"
May you like
Rebecca held out her phone.
"An emergency allegation that you're dangerous to your children."
