Chapter 6: What Ethan Left Behind
Clara unzipped the backpack slowly, the way you open something when you're not sure what you'll find.
Inside: a small stuffed rabbit Lily had owned since she was two.
A box of crayons.
A library book three days overdue.
A folded piece of paper tucked into the front pocket, beneath a half-eaten granola bar.
Clara's name was written on the outside of the fold.
In Ethan's handwriting.
Her hands stopped moving.
She looked up.
Reyes was in the kitchen doorway, giving her space but staying close.
Clara looked back down at the paper.
She unfolded it.
It was not a long letter.
Ethan had never been a man of long letters.
*Clara.
If you're reading this, I wasn't able to come back and explain in person.
I'm sorry for that.
I'm sorry for a lot of things I didn't say clearly enough while I had the chance.*
*There are documents.
I moved them.
They're with Daniel Farro — he's an attorney, not connected to the family.
His card is in my gray coat, inside breast pocket.
He's expecting contact.
He knows what to do.*
*Do not trust Scott.
Do not trust my mother.
I know that's hard to read.
I know you've tried with both of them.
But what I found in the company accounts is not a mistake.
It was deliberate.
And it goes back further than I knew.*
*I love you.
I love Lily.
Whatever they tell you about me — whatever they try to make you believe — please find Daniel first.*
*— E*
Clara read it twice.
Then she folded it exactly as it had been folded and held it flat between both palms.
"Officer Reyes," she said.
Reyes stepped forward.
"I need Detective Holt," Clara said.
"Right now."
Reyes was already moving.
Holt came in less than a minute.
Clara held the letter out to him without a word.
He read it standing up.
When he finished, he looked at her.
"Daniel Farro," he said.
"The gray coat is in the front closet," Clara said.
"Second hook from the left."
Holt went to the closet.
He found the coat.
Inside the breast pocket was a business card — cream colored, simple type, a downtown address.
He held it up.
"Do you know this man?" he asked.
"I've never heard his name before tonight," Clara said.
Holt turned the card over.
On the back, in Ethan's handwriting: *She'll come.
Trust her.*
The room was very quiet.
"He prepared this," Holt said.
Not a question.
"He knew," Clara said.
"He knew what they were planning.
He came home that afternoon to leave me a way out." Her voice cracked on the last word, just slightly.
"He just didn't tell me.
He didn't warn me directly.
He left it in a backpack and hoped I'd find it."
"Maybe he thought a direct warning would put you in more danger," Reyes said from the doorway.
Clara looked at her.
It was the kindest possible interpretation.
She wasn't sure she could afford kindness right now.
"Can you reach Daniel Farro tonight?" she asked Holt.
"We can try." He was already reaching for his phone.
"If Ethan gave him documents — company records, financial evidence — that changes the scope of this significantly."
"Scott sent that spreadsheet to someone," Clara said.
"What if he sent it to Farro?
What if Ethan had already started building a case and Scott found out?"
Holt looked at her.
"That would give Scott a reason to move fast."
"And Beatrice a reason to help him." Clara pressed her lips together.
"They weren't trying to frame me for something that already happened.
They were setting the stage for something they were planning."
The word landed between them like something dropped from a height.
Holt's phone connected.
He stepped into the hallway.
Clara sat back down next to Lily.
She tucked the blanket higher around her daughter's shoulders.
Lily shifted, murmured something, went still again.
From the other room — the room where Scott had been sitting — came a sound Clara couldn't immediately identify.
A chair scraping.
Then a voice, low and urgent, the words indistinct.
Then Holt's voice, sharp and clear through the wall: "Mr.
May you like
Vance.
Do not touch that phone."
