I entered the house just before sunset.
Daniel was in his office.
His voice carried through the half-open door.
“No, Friday is the deadline.”
I stopped in the hallway.
“I don’t care what the accountant says. The policy is in place, and the documents are already submitted.”
A pause.
Then he said, “Once she is declared incapable of managing her affairs, I can handle everything.”
My heart pounded.
I moved closer.
“The insurance is only part of it,” he continued. “If she dies, the investigation becomes a different matter. If she survives but loses her capacity, I still have a way forward.”
I nearly stumbled.
Then came the sentence that erased every remaining doubt.
“I didn’t marry a sixty-four-year-old woman because I wanted to spend my life making tea for her.”
He laughed softly.
“I married her because her late husband’s estate was worth more than anyone realized.”
I covered my mouth.
