Chapter 10 - The Aunt Who Knew EverythingMargaret walked slowly toward us.
Nobody stopped her.
She had the kind of confidence that made people move without being asked.
I remembered her from childhood.
She gave expensive birthday gifts.
She never raised her voice.
And Mom refused to let her stay overnight.
I had never understood why.
Now I knew better.
“Margaret,” my father said.
She smiled.
“Daniel.”
My father looked at Ethan.
“You should have called the police.”
Margaret laughed softly.
“Not yet.”
I stepped forward.
“You helped Marcus.”
“Yes.”
“You helped Paige.”
“Yes.”
“You forged the records.”
“No.”
I frowned.
“Then what did you do?”
Margaret looked at Paige.
“I gave your sister the truth she was desperate to hear.”
Paige shook her head.
“You told me Clara stole everything.”
“She did not.”
“I know.”
Margaret smiled.
“Now.”
Paige looked sick.
“Why?”
“Because you were easy to manipulate.”
Aunt Denise snapped:
“You ruined her.”
“No.”
Margaret looked at her.
“I gave her choices.”
“You blackmailed her.”
“Only because she kept making the wrong ones.”
I stared.
“You killed my mother.”
Margaret's expression finally changed.
“No.”
“Then who did?”
She looked at Daniel.
“Your father.”
My father went rigid.
“That isn't true.”
“I watched you push her.”
He stepped toward Margaret.
“You know what happened.”
“I do.”
“Then say it.”
Margaret smiled.
“Your mother fell.”
My hands shook.
“Because?”
“Because Daniel grabbed her.”
My father closed his eyes.
“I was trying to stop her.”
“From what?”
“From giving the evidence to police.”
I stared.
“You were there.”
“Yes.”
“And Marcus.”
“Yes.”
“Paige.”
“Yes.”
“Denise.”
“Yes.”
“Everyone was there.”
Margaret nodded.
“Because Eleanor had planned one final meeting.”
She reached into her purse.
Pulled out a photograph.
It showed Mom sitting at the dining room table.
Six chairs.
Six people.
My parents.
Paige.
Denise.
Marcus.
Margaret.
The night she died.
I stared.
“How did you get this?”
Margaret smiled.
“Your mother took it.”
“Why?”
“To remind herself who she was fighting.”
I looked at the faces.
Mom was looking directly into the camera.
And beneath the photograph was handwritten:
Six chairs.
One liar.
Two thieves.
One coward.
One witness.
One person who still thinks she can be saved.
I looked at Paige.
“Which one is me?”
Margaret answered.
“The person your mother still loved.”
Paige began crying.
I looked at Mom's words again.
The final line had been circled.
One person who still thinks she can be saved.
Paige.
I looked at her.
“Mom knew.”
“Yes,” Margaret said.
“She knew everything.”
“Why did she leave you anything?”
“Because she thought I could finish it.”
Margaret stepped closer.
“But she underestimated one thing.”
“What?”
“That dead women cannot defend their own evidence.”
I looked at Ethan.
He quietly reached into his jacket.
And pulled out one final device.
A small recorder.
He pressed play.
Mom's voice filled the room.
“Margaret.”
The room froze.
“You're early.”
Margaret's face changed.
The recording continued.
“I know what you have done.”
Margaret stared at the device.
Mom's voice remained calm.
“You believed Daniel was the problem.”
A pause.
“You believed Marcus was the problem.”
Another pause.
“But you were always the problem.”
Margaret's lips trembled.
Mom continued.
“And I know exactly what you will do next.”
The recording ended.
Margaret looked at me.
May you like
For the first time, she seemed afraid.
Then the chapel lights went out.
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