“That’s what your parents believed.”
“And Denise?”
“We don’t know whether she knew.”
I laughed without humor.
“She knew enough to want Vicky’s money.”
“Yes.”
Mercer opened another file.
“There’s more.”
An audio icon appeared.
The filename was:
FOR MICHAEL — IF NEEDED
Every hair on my arms rose.
“What is that?”
“I haven’t played it.”
“Why?”
“Because your mother addressed it to you.”
My heart slammed.
I reached for the mouse.
Then stopped.
For three months, I had dreamed about hearing Mom’s voice again.
Not memories.
Not old birthday videos.
Something new.
Something she had deliberately left for me.
My hand shook as I clicked.
Static.
Then—
“Michael.”
I broke.
One word.
That was all it took.
I covered my mouth.
Mom’s voice filled the office.
Warm.
Tired.
Alive.
“If you’re hearing this, then something has happened that your father and I hoped never would.”
I lowered my head.
Mercer quietly stood and walked to the window, giving me privacy.
