I played the recording.
She sat down at my small kitchen table, one hand resting on a yellow notepad and the other holding a pen. Her expression didn’t change for the first minute. After two minutes, she wrote something down. After four, she took off her glasses and carefully placed them on the table.
When the recording finished, the studio was silent, except for the radiator.
Sylvia exhaled slowly.
Did you hear that through the door?
“Yes.”
“And these are Eleanor and Chloe?”
“Yes.”
“Does Julian know you have this?”
“No.”
“Good.”
That single word made me feel stronger than any comforting speech could have.
Sylvia opened her folder. “Listen carefully. You will not meet with them alone. You will not hand over the original property documents. You will not allow them to turn this into an emotional argument about embarrassment. This is no longer about marital drama. This is about asset protection.”
My cell phone rang again while she was talking.
Seventeen missed calls.
Thirty-nine texts.
A voice message from Eleanor.
Sylvia pointed to the phone. “Speaker.”
I called Julian.
He answered even before the first ring finished.
“Harper, where are you? Do you have any idea what you’re doing? The makeup artist is waiting. The event venue is calling me. My mother is desperate.”
“I know what I’m doing.”
“No, you’re not. You’re panicking.”
“No, Julian. I was panicking last night. This morning I’m very calm.”
There was a pause.
“What happened?”
I looked at Sylvia. She nodded.
I pressed play.
The recording filled the room.
Harper just left.
The apartment is authentic.
The day after tomorrow, Julian is going to make things very exciting.
Harper likes to feel useful.
Julian loves what Harper can do for him.
Almost there.
When I stopped the audio, nobody spoke.
I could hear Julian breathing.
Then, softly, Eleanor’s voice can be heard in the background.
“What did she touch?”
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