“Then come talk to me Friday night,” I said. “Bring Vanessa. Let’s sit down like adults and figure this out. If you still want to involve lawyers after, fine. But give me one chance to explain what your father actually wanted for you.”
Silence stretched between us.
“Vanessa doesn’t trust this,” he said finally.
“Vanessa doesn’t have to trust me,” I said. “But Trevor… I’m your mother. I raised you. I love you despite everything. Doesn’t that count for something?”
More silence.
“Okay,” he said at last. “We’ll come. 7:00 p.m. Friday. But Mom… please. Don’t make this harder than it already is.”
“I promise you’ll have answers to everything,” I said. “7:00 p.m. I’ll see you then.”
After we hung up, I immediately called Frank.
“They agreed,” I said. “Friday, 7:00 p.m. Can you install the equipment?”
“Thursday afternoon,” Frank said. “I’ll be there at two.”
“You’re sure about this, Diane?” he asked.
“I’ve been sure since the day Richard gave me that key fifteen months ago,” I said. “I just didn’t know what I was preparing for.”
Across town, in the apartment Trevor and Vanessa shared, she stood at the window watching traffic below.
“What did she say?” Vanessa asked without turning.
Trevor sat on their couch, phone still in hand. “She knows about the storage. Wants to talk about Dad’s estate. She sounded… different. Softer.”
“She’s playing you,” Vanessa said. “Maybe. Or maybe she’s just tired of fighting.”
He looked up at his wife. “Vanessa… she’s my mother. She lost her husband. Can we at least hear her out?”
Vanessa turned, studying him with those cold, calculating eyes he’d somehow convinced himself showed love. She crossed to him, perched on the couch, ran her fingers through his hair.
“Of course we can, baby,” she said. “We’ll go. We’ll listen. And if she tries anything… we’ll handle it.”
After Trevor went to shower, Vanessa pulled out her phone and texted Douglas Crane:
We’re going to her house Friday night. Be ready. If she knows anything, we need to act fast.
His reply came immediately:
I’ll have contingency plans prepared. Don’t worry.
Vanessa deleted the message thread and slipped her phone back in her pocket. She walked to their bedroom window. Below, Portland moved through its ordinary rhythms—people heading to work, living their small, predictable lives.
Soon she’d have thirty-two million reasons to leave this city forever. Leave Trevor. Leave Diane. Leave this whole tedious charade behind.
Trevor emerged from the bathroom, toweling his hair.
“I’m nervous about Friday,” he said.
Vanessa smiled the same perfect smile she’d worn the day they met. “Don’t be nervous, honey. Everything’s going to work out exactly as planned.”
He nodded, wanting desperately to believe her.
She turned back to the window, her smile shifting into something harder, colder. She whispered to her own reflection, too quiet for Trevor to hear:
“Soon this will all be over.”
They arrived exactly at 7:00.
I opened the door to find Trevor on the porch steps, hands shoved in his jacket pockets, looking like he’d rather be anywhere else. Behind him stood Vanessa in a cream-colored dress, her smile perfect and practiced.
“Come in,” I said simply.
The dining room table was set for three. A simple meal: roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans. The kind of dinner I’d made a thousand times when Trevor was growing up.
We ate in near silence for the first forty minutes. Trevor attempted conversation.
“Mom, the food is good. Thanks for inviting us.”
“This is still your home, sweetheart,” I said. “You grew up here.”
I set down my fork. “I just wanted moments like this before everything changes.”
Vanessa’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“Diane,” she said, “you look much better tonight. These past months when I visited, you seemed so frail, but tonight you seem sharper. Clearer.”
I met her gaze across the table. “Perhaps because I stopped taking those vitamins you gave me.”
The temperature in the room dropped ten degrees.
Trevor looked between us, confused. “Mom, what are you—”
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