The doorbell rang again. Robert left briefly and returned with a tall woman in a charcoal coat carrying a leather briefcase. She introduced herself as Amanda Pierce, his attorney. Her expression was calm, efficient—not curious or dramatic—which made everything feel even more serious.
Claire gave a brittle laugh. “This is ridiculous. Are we in a movie now?”
Amanda placed her briefcase on the sideboard. “No, Ms. Bennett. In a movie, people act without evidence. Mr. Bennett documented everything.”
That was when I realized how long Robert had been carrying this alone.
I turned to him. “Six weeks?”
His jaw tightened. “The envelope arrived at my office the Monday after Sophie’s school concert. No return address. Fake lab report. A note that said, ‘Ask your wife where Sophie got her green eyes.’”
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