Chapter 2 - THE WOMAN WHO FELL
Ashley’s voice was thick with sleep.
“What?” she mumbled.
I looked at the locked bedroom door, then toward the hallway where my husband and mother-in-law were preparing to turn my death into a story.
“Ashley,” I whispered, “I need you to come upstairs. Right now.”
There was a pause.
“Claire? What is wrong?”
“I think there’s something wrong with the stairs.”
That was not a lie.
It was simply not enough of the truth.
Ashley groaned. “At three in the morning?”
“Yes. Please. And don’t turn on any lights.”
I ended the call before she could ask more questions.
For five seconds, nothing happened.
Then I heard Daniel’s footsteps in the hallway.
My heart slammed against my ribs.
“Claire?” he called softly from outside the bedroom door. “Are you awake?”
I stared at the lock.
My phone was recording.
“Yes,” I said, forcing my voice to sound sleepy. “The baby kicked.”
The handle turned.
Locked.
Daniel was silent for a moment.
Then he laughed gently—the same low, affectionate laugh that had once made me feel safe.
“Try to get some rest, sweetheart.”
His footsteps moved away.
I stood beside the door, barely breathing.
A minute later, another sound came from the hallway.
Ashley.
“Claire?” she whispered. “Where are you?”
I opened the door only a few inches.
She stood there in a silk robe, rubbing one eye. Her blond hair was tangled around her face. For the first time in months, she looked less like the glamorous sister-in-law who treated my house like a hotel and more like a frightened twenty-eight-year-old woman.
“What happened?” she asked.
I pulled her inside and locked the door again.
“I need you to listen,” I said. “Daniel and Patricia are downstairs. They put grease on the stairs.”
Ashley stared at me.
“What?”
“They’re planning to make me fall.”
Her expression hardened with disbelief.
“Claire, that’s insane.”
“I heard them.”
“You heard what?”
I played the recording.
The room filled with Patricia’s voice.
“At five, she’ll come down this way.”
Then Daniel’s.
“And after she falls?”
Ashley’s face changed before the recording even ended.
She stopped breathing.
When Patricia said, “By tomorrow, Daniel, everything will finally be ours,” Ashley covered her mouth.
“Oh my God.”
“You knew about the insurance policy,” I said.
Ashley looked at me sharply.
“What insurance policy?”
“The one Daniel took out on me.”
“I didn’t know.”
“Don’t lie to me.”
“I’m not.” Her eyes filled with tears. “Claire, I knew he’d been asking questions about your company shares. I knew Mom was angry because you wouldn’t put the lake house into a family trust. But I didn’t know this.”
A crash sounded downstairs.
Both of us froze.
Then Patricia’s voice rose.
“Ashley?”
Ashley looked at me.
“She’ll know I’m up here.”
“Good,” I said.
My voice surprised even me.
“There’s something I need you to do.”
“What?”
“Go downstairs. Act normal. Tell her you heard a noise and came to check.”
“And you?”
“I’m going to stay here until the patrol arrives.”
Ashley shook her head. “They could hurt you.”
“They already planned to.”
Her lips trembled.
“Claire…”
“If you are telling the truth, then help me.”
Ashley stared at the door.
Then she nodded.
But before she could leave, she stopped.
“There’s something else,” she whispered.
“What?”
“My mother keeps important papers in the locked cabinet in her room.”
“Why are you telling me this now?”
“Because last week, I saw a file with your name on it.”
My blood turned cold.
“What kind of file?”
“I don’t know. I only saw the words ‘Bennett Estate Plan.’ I thought it was something Daniel was handling for you.”
“He’s not.”
Ashley looked toward the hall again.
“And Claire?”
“Yes?”
“If you get out of this house tonight, don’t trust anyone who works for Daniel at the company.”
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
“What do you mean?”
She swallowed.
“I heard him talking to someone in your office last month. He said, ‘Once Claire is out, the board will do what they’re told.’”
Before I could ask who, Patricia shouted again.
“Ashley!”
Ashley opened the bedroom door.
“Go,” I whispered.
She stepped into the hall.
Then everything happened too quickly.
I heard Patricia’s footsteps rushing toward her.
“Ashley, why are you awake?”
“I heard something,” Ashley answered.
“You should be sleeping.”
“I was getting water.”
Then Daniel’s voice came from downstairs.
“Mom.”
Patricia stopped.
“What?”
“The camera light.”
For one horrifying second, nobody spoke.
Then Daniel said, “The pantry camera is on.”
Patricia’s voice became sharp. “It’s always on.”
“No. The app light. Someone accessed it.”
My heart stopped.
Daniel knew.
The patrol was still three minutes away.
I could hear him coming up the stairs.
And then Patricia screamed.
It was not a theatrical scream.
It was raw.
Sudden.
Terrified.
I opened the bedroom door just enough to see.
Ashley was standing near the railing, her hands raised.
Patricia had stepped backward onto the marble staircase.
Onto the grease she had spread for me.
Her right foot slipped first.
Then the other.
Her body twisted violently as she grabbed for the railing, but the grease made her hand slide free.
She fell.
The sound of her body hitting the marble steps was sickening.
Once.
Twice.
Then she stopped at the bottom of the staircase.
Daniel stood frozen at the landing.
Ashley clutched the railing, sobbing.
May you like
And Patricia Carter—the woman who had planned to make everyone believe I fell—was lying unconscious in a pool of blood beneath the exact camera she had forgotten existed.
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