Chapter 6 - The Message at 7:18
Ryan held up the phone.
“Clara was with me.”
Vanessa blinked. “What?”
“August twelfth. Seven eighteen. You were at your bridal shower in Charleston.”
He looked at me.
“You came to the condo because the pipe under my kitchen sink burst.”
I remembered instantly.
Ryan had called Dad, but Dad was out of town. I lived fifteen minutes away and knew the building manager, so I went over with a wrench and two towels.
Ryan continued, “My phone was dead. Clara let me use hers to call the emergency plumber.”
Vanessa’s face tightened.
“So?”
“So her phone was in my hand at 7:18.”
I stared at him.
He was right.
I had been on the floor holding a flashlight while he called maintenance.
Ryan looked at the screenshot again.
“This text came from her number while I was using her phone.”
Diane said quickly, “Messages can be scheduled.”
Aunt Rachel snorted. “You seem very prepared.”
Diane glared at her.
Vanessa snatched her phone back. “Fine. Maybe I remembered the date wrong.”
“The timestamp is on your screenshot,” Ryan said.
She said nothing.
I could feel relatives watching me differently now. Not with pity. With concern.
That was almost worse.
Because suddenly everyone understood this was not a mean seating choice.
Someone had manufactured evidence against me.
Grandma reached for my hand.
“Clara showed me the transfer because I asked her to review my statements,” she said. “She didn’t accuse anyone. She asked me if I recognized Bellweather.”
Ryan looked at Vanessa. “Did you know she was reviewing the account?”
Vanessa hesitated.
I answered for her.
“Yes.”
Her eyes snapped toward me.
“She called me the next morning.”
Ryan turned to me. “What did she say?”
I had tried to forget the call.
“She told me to stop digging into things that didn’t concern me.”
Vanessa scoffed. “I said stop stressing Grandma before the wedding.”
“No. You said, ‘You always ruin things when people are finally happy.’”
Dad closed his eyes.
Then a voice behind us said, “That sounds familiar.”
We turned.
Jonah Pierce, Grandma’s attorney, stood near the ballroom door holding a slim black briefcase.
Grandma exhaled in relief.
May you like
Jonah looked directly at Diane.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he said. “Because I need to ask you why Margaret’s signature appears on another document she never signed.”
