Chapter 10: The Recording
Claire played the recording at 5:20 p.m.
They were still in the kitchen. Victor had not left. He seemed unable to move, as if staying in the house might somehow undo what had already been done.
Claire took out her phone and opened a file she had saved months earlier.
Victor’s voice filled the kitchen.
It was a recording from three months ago. He and Olivia had been in his car. Claire had placed a small recorder under the passenger seat weeks before. In the recording, Victor sounded drunk and arrogant.
“I’m going to clean her out,” his voice said, slurred but clear. “Claire has no idea how much money is actually there. She thinks the company is doing fine. By the time I’m done, she’ll be lucky if she keeps the house. Olivia and I will be on a beach somewhere with everything she thought was hers.”
Olivia’s laughter could be heard in the background.
Victor continued, his voice growing louder. “She’s so fucking useless. She just sits there and smiles like everything’s fine. She has no idea I’ve been moving money for months. When I finally leave, she’s going to fall apart. I almost feel bad for her.”
The recording ended.
Claire set the phone down on the table between them.
Victor had gone completely still. His face was pale.
“I have twenty-three more recordings like that one,” Claire said quietly. “Some are worse. Some are just you talking about how easy it was to lie to me. I sent the best ones to the FBI yesterday.”
Victor stared at the phone like it was something dangerous.
“You recorded me,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
“I recorded everything,” Claire replied. “Because I knew that one day you would try to make me look crazy. I wanted proof that the only crazy thing I ever did was stay with you for eleven years.”
Victor stood up slowly. His hands were shaking.
“You bitch,” he said, but there was no real heat behind it. Only exhaustion and fear.
Claire didn’t react.
“You can leave now,” she said. “Or you can wait for the FBI to come find you. Either way, we’re done here.”
Victor looked at her for a long moment. Then he turned and walked out of the kitchen. A few seconds later, she heard the front door open and close.
May you like
Claire stood alone in the kitchen and let out a long, slow breath.
For the first time since he left at 2 a.m., she felt something close to peace.
