“Exactly as promised.”
My wife’s voice came through Tony’s laptop speakers so clearly that for one irrational second I turned toward the office door, expecting Beatrice to be standing behind me.
She wasn’t.
Only her image was there, recorded two nights earlier in the Gilded Oak’s VIP room.
Megan stood across from her in her wedding dress, one hand pressed against the small curve of her belly.
The leather folder containing the lakehouse deed rested on the table between them.
I had placed it in Terrence’s hands less than twenty minutes before that recording was made.
Megan touched the folder.
“He really put both our names on it?”
Beatrice nodded.
“Exactly as promised.”
My mouth went dry.
Promised by whom?
The gift had supposedly been my idea.
At least that was how I remembered it.
Months earlier, Beatrice had started mentioning the lakehouse whenever we talked about the wedding.
“They’ll need somewhere to build memories,” she had said.
Later it became, “We hardly use it anymore.”
Then, “Wouldn’t it be beautiful if your first grandchild learned to swim there?”
None of it had sounded like pressure.
That was Beatrice’s talent.
She could place an idea in the room so gently that eventually you mistook it for your own.
On the screen, Megan picked up the folder and checked the signature page again.
Then she said something that changed the temperature of Tony’s office.
“And Terrence still doesn’t know?”
Beatrice’s smile disappeared.
“Keep your voice down.”
Megan folded her arms.
“You told me this would be finished tonight.”
“It is finished.”
“No.
The house is finished.” Megan tapped the folder.
“The other part isn’t.”
Beatrice glanced toward the closed VIP room door.
Tony paused the video.
I looked at him.
“What other part?”
He swallowed.
“This is why I asked you to come alone.”
“Play it.”
“Mr.
Barnes—”
“Play it.”
The video resumed.
Beatrice stepped closer to Megan.
“You have what you wanted,” she said.
“Now you keep your promise.”
Megan gave a short, humorless laugh.
“My promise depends on you keeping yours.”
Then she lifted the pale envelope she had been carrying.
I recognized it as the envelope sitting on Tony’s desk.
Megan shook it once.
“You should’ve destroyed this years ago.”
Beatrice’s face went white.
“I thought I had.”
Megan leaned toward her.
