Chapter 15 - Before Sophie Was Born
Margaret cried before Andrew finished asking.
“That email was not what you think.”
“What do I think?”
“That we manipulated Renee’s pregnancy.”
Renee stood rigid beside him.
“Did you?”
“No.”
“Then explain it.”
Margaret wiped her eyes.
“Charles wanted you to sign a marital property agreement.”
Andrew remembered.
His father had suggested one.
Andrew refused.
“He said it was standard.”
“It wasn’t.”
Renee’s hands trembled.
“What did he know about the Keene trust?”
“Enough to believe you might someday recover Hawthorne Ridge or other property.”
“So he wanted Andrew to control it through marriage.”
“Yes.”
“And ‘use pregnancy’?”
Margaret looked ashamed.
“He thought if Andrew became worried about protecting his child’s inheritance, he might reconsider.”
Renee exhaled slowly.
Not relief exactly.
But the darker possibility vanished.
Andrew asked, “Did Dad ever interfere with Sophie’s birth, doctors, anything?”
“No.”
“Swear.”
“I swear.”
Renee sat down.
The years seemed to be collapsing inward.
Every family dinner with Charles.
Every birthday gift.
Every affectionate grandfatherly smile.
He had known who she was.
Andrew asked Margaret, “Why did you warn him?”
“Because Sophie was innocent.”
“So was Mara.”
Margaret looked at Renee.
“Yes.”
The use of Mara rather than Renee made the room quiet.
Margaret continued.
“I should have told you then.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Charles promised he would drop it.”
“Did he?”
“No.”
Of course not.
He had commissioned additional reports after Sophie’s birth.
Renee asked, “Was he afraid Peter left me something?”
“Yes.”
“What?”
“A statement.”
Gabriel had once told Charles that Peter recorded a final message intended for Evelyn and Mara.
No one had found it.
Andrew remembered the cassette tapes.
“We have six recordings.”
Margaret shook her head.
“Charles believed there were seven.”
They returned to Hawthorne Ridge.
The tapes were labeled by date.
Six dates.
One gap of three days before Peter’s death.
The missing seventh tape.
Renee stared at the box.
“Someone took it.”
Andrew thought of the break-in.
“Or it was never here.”
Sophie wandered into the room holding her stuffed rabbit.
“Mommy?”
Renee wiped her eyes.
“Yes, baby?”
“Can we go to the park?”
Renee smiled.
“Absolutely.”
They needed normal life.
At the park Sophie climbed ladders and demanded Andrew push her “higher than the clouds.”
For thirty minutes they were simply a family.
Then Sophie said something.
“The old man was nicer.”
Andrew stopped pushing.
“What old man?”
“The one at school.”
Renee approached.
“What did he say?”
“He said Mommy had a song.”
“We know.”
Sophie shook her head.
“No. He gave me something.”
Both adults froze.
“What?”
Sophie pointed at her stuffed rabbit.
“He said it was for Mommy when she remembered.”
Renee took the rabbit.
Her father had given her the same type of rabbit as a child.
Sophie’s had been purchased secondhand by Claire at a charity shop before the move.
Or so they had thought.
Renee opened the Velcro seam in the back.
Inside the stuffing was a tiny brass capsule.
Andrew unscrewed it.
A tightly rolled piece of paper slid out.
Renee unfolded it.
Only numbers.
7-4-9-1-3-8
And one handwritten line:
THE SONG OPENS WHAT THE KEY CANNOT.
Renee began humming unconsciously.
A simple six-note melody.
Her father’s rain song.
Andrew stared at the numbers.
Six digits.
Six notes.
A code.
May you like
Renee looked toward Hawthorne Ridge in the distance beyond the park trees.
“The seventh recording is still in the house.”
