Chapter 6: The Name She Recognized
Sarah went still.
"Tell me," she said.
Daniel sat down.
He turned his phone face-up on the table and slid it toward her.
On the screen was a scanned document — account records, a column of transfers, and at the top, a name in bold.
*Patricia Hale.*
Sarah stared at it.
"Victor's wife," she said.
"Victor's wife," Daniel confirmed.
"She wasn't just aware of what he was doing.
She was co-signatory on the account.
Every transfer he made, she countersigned within twenty-four hours."
"She knew everything."
"From the beginning, it looks like.
The solicitor thinks she may have been the one who sourced the forger.
She had a brother who worked in document reproduction — commercial printing, that kind of thing.
He died four years ago, but the trail is there."
Sarah pushed the phone back across the table.
"I met her.
At your company Christmas dinner.
The year before I left." She paused.
"She was kind to me.
She asked about my work.
She said Victor talked about you all the time, that you were like a brother to him."
"He probably was.
Right up until the money became more important."
"She sat with me for an hour." Sarah's voice was quiet and precise.
"She asked where we lived.
Whether we were planning to start a family.
She was—" She stopped.
"She was gathering information," Daniel said.
The words landed without drama.
That was almost worse.
Lena had gone quiet.
She was looking at her sugar wall with great concentration, but her hands weren't moving.
"Does Patricia know you've found the accounts?" Sarah asked.
"As of this morning, no.
The solicitor has been careful.
But that message you received—" He nodded toward Sarah's phone.
"If Patricia has someone watching me, she may already suspect we're close."
"So she sent the warning."
"It's possible.
Or she has someone who acts independently when they feel the situation shifting." He leaned back.
"Either way, she knows something changed today."
Sarah looked at the window again.
"What does your solicitor need?" she asked.
"The strongest thing we have right now is the account records.
But Patricia's legal team will argue the countersignatures were routine — that she didn't understand what she was signing." He paused.
"What would make it airtight is testimony.
Someone who can confirm she knew.
Victor told me everything in that hospital room, but he's gone, and a de@thbed confession with no recording isn't enough."
"Is there anyone else?"
"Possibly.
Victor had an assistant for three years.
Young woman, left the company about eight months before you disappeared.
My solicitor tracked her down last week.
She hasn't agreed to speak yet, but she hasn't refused either."
"What's her name?"
"Gemma.
Gemma Thorp."
Sarah repeated the name silently.
"What would it take?" she asked.
"For her to talk?"
"Someone she trusts asking the right questions.
She's wary of lawyers.
Wary of official processes." He looked at Sarah carefully.
"She's a young woman who worked for a man who turned out to be something very different from what she thought.
I think she might respond to someone who understands that feeling."
The suggestion sat between them without being spoken directly.
Sarah understood it anyway.
"You want me to speak to her."
"I think you might be the only one she'd actually listen to."
Sarah was quiet for a moment.
She looked at Lena, who had now carefully placed one sugar packet on top of the wall like a flag.
"I'd need to know she's safe to approach," Sarah said.
"I'm not walking into something blind.
Not with Lena in my life."
"I'll have everything my solicitor has sent to you by tonight.
You read it.
You decide." He met her eyes.
"I'm not going to push you into anything.
You've had enough of that."
Sarah nodded slowly.
Then Lena looked up from her sugar wall and addressed Daniel with complete seriousness.
"If you're going to be around," she said, "you should know I don't like mushrooms and I go to bed at eight-thirty."
Daniel looked at her for a moment.
"Noted," he said.
"I don't like mushrooms either."
Lena pointed at him.
"See, Mom.
He's fine."
Sarah laughed.
It came out before she could stop it — real and sudden and a little broken at the edges.
It was the first time she had laughed in a very long time.
She didn't notice Daniel watching her when it happened.
But Lena did.
That night, after Sarah had read Lena her story and turned off the lamp, she sat at the kitchen table with Daniel's solicitor's files open on her laptop.
She read for two hours.
At the end, she closed the laptop, sat in the dark for a moment, and then picked up her phone.
She typed one message to the number Daniel had given her.
*I'll talk to Gemma.
Tell me when and where.*
She set the phone down.
Across the room, on the kitchen counter, her own phone lit up with a new message from the unnamed number.
May you like
*Last warning.
Walk away while you still can.*
