Chapter 7 - Victoria’s First MistakeNobody moved toward the phone.
It rang on the dining room table, vibrating against the polished wood.
Mother.
Olivia stared at it like it was a snake.
Charlotte began whispering, “No, no, no…”
Samantha stood frozen with tears still wet on her face.
Alexander looked at Bennett.
“Record it.”
Bennett nodded to the detective, who activated a device and signaled Olivia.
“Answer,” he said.
Olivia shook her head. “I can’t.”
Samantha stepped forward.
“I will.”
Alexander’s eyes snapped to her. “Samantha—”
“She called Olivia’s phone because she thinks Olivia is still loyal,” Samantha said. “Let her hear me.”
The detective hesitated, then nodded.
Samantha picked up.
The line clicked open.
Victoria’s voice came through, sharp and low.
“Olivia, listen carefully. Do not speak near anyone. Take Charlotte and leave the house through the garden gate. There is a car waiting two blocks down.”
Samantha said nothing.
Victoria continued.
“Destroy anything from the safe if they haven’t found it. Especially the notebook. And do not let Samantha near Richard’s drive.”
Samantha’s grip tightened.
Alexander’s face went cold.
Victoria paused.
“Olivia?”
Samantha finally spoke.
“No.”
Silence.
Then Victoria breathed out slowly.
“Samantha.”
Her name sounded like a curse.
“You should stop running,” Samantha said.
Victoria laughed quietly. “You sound different. Did the cameras teach you courage overnight?”
“No. You did.”
Another pause.
Then Victoria’s voice turned sweet.
“My poor girl. You have no idea what Richard was like near the end. Paranoid. Confused. He made recordings, wrote letters, accused everyone. You are building your new life on the fears of a dying man.”
Samantha looked at the frozen image of her father on the laptop screen.
“He was afraid of you.”
“He was weak.”
Olivia made a wounded sound.
Victoria ignored it.
“He loved dead women and fragile children more than the family standing in front of him. I gave that house elegance. I gave his name power. And he repaid me by leaving everything to a girl who could barely look people in the eye.”
Samantha’s voice shook. “Where are you?”
“Far enough.”
The detective gestured for Samantha to keep her talking.
Samantha inhaled.
“What happened to my mother’s medical records?”
The line went silent.
Then Victoria said softly, “Careful.”
The word chilled the room.
Samantha’s heart pounded, but she continued.
“My father said you were there the night she died.”
Olivia turned white.
Charlotte covered her mouth.
Victoria’s tone changed.
No more sweetness.
No more polish.
“Your mother was already dying.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“She was in pain.”
“What did you do?”
Alexander stepped closer, not touching Samantha, but near enough that she felt steadier.
Victoria whispered, “I did what everyone was too sentimental to do.”
Charlotte sobbed.
Olivia grabbed the back of a chair.
The detective’s eyes sharpened.
Samantha felt all air leave her body.
“You killed her?”
“I ended a problem.”
The sentence was soft.
Almost bored.
And it destroyed whatever remained of the Collins family.
Samantha swayed.
Alexander caught her elbow lightly.
Victoria continued, unaware or uncaring that she was being recorded.
“Eleanor would have convinced Richard to cut me out completely. She knew too much. She always looked at me like she could see through skin. So yes, Samantha. I was there. I changed one dose. One. The doctors blamed the illness. Richard suspected, but suspicion is not proof.”
Olivia whispered, “Mom…”
Victoria heard her.
“Oh, Olivia. You’re there too. Good. Listen to me. Samantha will ruin all of us. Everything you have, every friend, every invitation, every future, gone because your father loved the wrong child.”
Olivia began crying for real now.
Samantha’s voice was barely audible.
“You stole my mother.”
Victoria snapped, “Your mother was already half gone.”
“You stole my father too.”
“No. Richard chose misery. I simply refused to be buried with him.”
The detective signaled.
They had enough.
But Samantha could not stop.
“Did you ever love anyone?”
Victoria laughed.
“I loved winning.”
Then the line clicked dead.
For several seconds, the room remained silent.
Even the ocean outside seemed to stop moving.
Charlotte collapsed into a chair.
Olivia slid down against the wall, shaking.
Samantha stood still, the phone in her hand.
She had imagined many truths.
Not this one.
Not murder spoken like housekeeping.
The detective took the phone gently.
“We have the recording,” he said. “We’ll issue a warrant.”
Samantha nodded, but she did not feel present.
Her mother’s death, once a tragedy, had become a crime.
Her childhood, once lonely, had become evidence.
Her family, once cold, had become dangerous.
Alexander turned to her.
“You need air.”
Samantha wanted to say she was fine.
She wasn’t.
He led her to the terrace. The sunset had faded into night. The ocean below was black and endless.
She gripped the stone railing.
“I don’t know what to feel.”
“Don’t decide yet,” Alexander said.
She looked at him.
“My whole life keeps changing every hour.”
“I know.”
“No, you don’t.”
He accepted the correction.
“You’re right.”
That simple admission broke something in her.
Samantha covered her face and cried.
Not neatly.
Not beautifully.
She cried like a child who had waited too long to make noise.
Alexander did not touch her.
He stood beside her, guarding her silence.
After a long time, she whispered, “I hate that part of me still wants Victoria to say she’s sorry.”
“That doesn’t make you weak.”
“It makes me stupid.”
“No,” he said. “It makes you someone who deserved a mother.”
Samantha looked at him through tears.
The words were too kind.
Too dangerous.
She looked away first.
Behind them, footsteps approached.
Bennett stepped onto the terrace.
“They found Victoria’s car abandoned near Santa Barbara.”
Samantha wiped her face.
“Was she in it?”
“No.”
Bennett hesitated.
Alexander noticed. “What else?”
The attorney looked at Samantha.
“There was a note.”
He handed her a plastic evidence sleeve.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Samantha recognized Victoria’s handwriting.
You want the truth, Samantha? Come find the woman who helped me bury it.
Under the sentence was a name.
Margaret Vale.
Samantha frowned.
“I don’t know her.”
Bennett did.
His face had gone pale.
Alexander saw it.
“Who is she?”
Bennett’s voice was grim.
“Eleanor Collins’s private nurse.”
Samantha’s breath caught.
“I thought she died.”
“No,” Bennett said. “She disappeared the week after your mother’s funeral.”
Alexander looked toward the dark ocean.
Victoria’s first mistake had been answering the phone.
May you like
Her second was leaving a name.
And Samantha, who had spent years washing dishes in silence, was about to follow the truth into the place Victoria feared most.
Related Stories
