PART 7

That night, after Julian went to bed, I waited.

At 1:17 a.m., I heard his breathing become steady.

At 1:26, I got up.

I walked quietly to his office.

I had never searched his desk before.

Not once.

I opened the drawer.

Nothing.

Another drawer.

Bills.

Receipts.

Pens.

Then I noticed something.

A key.

Small.

Silver.

With a red tag attached.

Storage.

I took a photograph of it with my phone.

I didn’t take the key.

I closed the drawer.

Then I opened the cabinet beneath his desk.

Inside were folders.

I began looking through them.

Business.

Taxes.

Insurance.

Nothing.

Until I found one labeled:

BENNETT FAMILY TRUST.

My heart pounded.

I opened it.

The first page was dated three years earlier.

I read it.

Then I sat down.

The trust wasn’t what I thought it was.

Julian had been named as successor trustee.

But there was something else.

A beneficiary amendment.

My name had been removed from one portion of the trust.

And someone else’s name had been added.

SOPHIE LARSON.

I covered my mouth.

“No…”

I turned the page.

There was another signature.

Not Julian’s.

My father’s.

I stared at it.

My father had died four years earlier.

And the amendment was dated two years after his death.

That was impossible.

Unless—

Someone had forged his signature.

I photographed every page.

Then I carefully returned everything exactly as I had found it.

I closed the office door.

But as I turned around—

Julian was standing at the end of the hallway.

My blood turned to ice.

He looked at me.

Neither of us spoke.

Then his eyes moved toward the office.

“What are you doing?”

I smiled.

“Getting water.”

“At one-thirty in the morning?”

I shrugged.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He stared at me.

Then he walked toward me.

Slowly.

“You’ve been in my office.”

“No.”

His jaw tightened.

“Claire.”

I looked directly into his eyes.

“I said no.”

For the first time in ten years, I saw fear in my husband’s face.

Not guilt.

Fear.

He stepped closer.

“Why are you lying to me?”

I smiled softly.

“Maybe I’m learning.”

He frowned.

“Learning what?”

I walked past him.

“German.”

He froze.

I didn’t turn around.

I went back to the bedroom.

Closed the door.

Locked it.

Then I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at my phone.

Because I had just realized something.

Julian hadn’t been afraid that I’d discovered Sophie.

He had been afraid I’d discovered something else.

Something much bigger.

And whatever that secret was—

I was going to find it.

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART….