Chapter 7: She Comes Back
She came back on the third day.
I heard the car in the drive and looked out the window and felt nothing except a steady, cold alertness — the same feeling I got before difficult meetings, before decisions that could not be undone.
I opened the door before she knocked.
Vanessa looked different.
She had dressed carefully — understated, no jewelry, hair pulled back.
She had thought about how she wanted to appear.
That told me everything about what she had come to do.
"I need to talk to you," she said.
"Talk."
"Can I come in?"
"No."
She absorbed that.
Adjusted.
"Nathan.
I know what this looks like.
I know the footage looks bad.
But you're missing context.
You're missing so much context and if you would just let me explain—"
"DS Okafor has the footage," I said.
"Both incidents.
She also has the note.
And my accountant has finished the preliminary audit."
Vanessa's expression did not change.
But her hand, resting on the doorframe, pressed slightly harder against the wood.
"You went to the police," she said.
"Yes."
"Over a stroller.
Over a grainy video that could mean anything."
"Over a hundred and ten thousand pounds," I said.
"Over a note written by Daniel Forsythe that references a timeline and a window.
Over a copy of my will found in your bedside drawer with three paragraphs highlighted."
The hand on the doorframe went still.
"That's not — I can explain the money.
The transfers were for—"
"Don't," I said.
"Don't explain them to me.
Explain them to the financial crimes unit."
"Nathan." Her voice shifted.
The careful understatement dropped away and something harder came through.
"You are making a very serious mistake.
I have done nothing wrong.
And if you push this — if you let this go further — I will fight you for custody.
I will fight you for every asset we acquired during this marriage.
I will make this as long and as expensive and as painful as I possibly can."
"I know," I said.
"I expected that."
"Then why—"
"Because Rosa is still in this house," I said.
"And my daughter is still alive.
And I would rather spend every pound I have in legal fees than spend one more day pretending I don't know what you were planning."
She stared at me.
"Daniel told me you'd react like this," she said.
"He said you were too proud to negotiate."
"He was right," I said.
"Goodbye, Vanessa."
I closed the door.
I stood in the hallway and listened.
Her heels on the front step.
A pause.
Then the car door.
Then the engine.
Then nothing.
Priya appeared at the top of the stairs.
"She's gone?"
"For now."
"She'll come back."
"Probably," I said.
"But not here.
The next time she comes back, it'll be through a solicitor."
Priya came halfway down the stairs and sat on a step.
"She mentioned Daniel," I said.
"She said he told her I was too proud to negotiate."
Priya looked at me carefully.
"What does that mean?"
"It means he's still advising her.
It means they're still coordinating." I looked up at her.
"It means DS Okafor needs to know she came here today."
I was already reaching for my phone when it rang.
The number on the screen was not DS Okafor.
It was not my solicitor.
May you like
It was not Marcus.
It was Daniel.
