Chapter 9
Two days after the document audit, Clara was sitting at the kitchen island sketching a new freelance logo concept on her tablet when a sharp, authoritative knock echoed at Sarah’s front door. Sarah froze, pausing mid-sentence while folding laundry on the sofa. They exchanged a wary glance. Given that only Marcus and a few close colleagues knew their location, a visitor arriving unannounced at dusk was deeply unsettling.
Clara stood up quietly, creeping toward the peephole while motioning for Sarah to stay back. Peering through the distorted glass lens, Clara’s breath caught in her throat. Standing on the welcome mat was not Julian, nor was it the police. It was Victoria, Julian’s older sister, whom Clara hadn't seen in over a year. Victoria was a corporate defense attorney living two states over, known in the family as the cold, rational fixer who cleaned up Julian and Helen’s messes.
Clara cracked the door open with the security chain still latched, staring out at her former sister-in-law. Victoria was dressed impeccably in a charcoal pantsuit, her short brown hair styled with severe precision. Her expression was unreadable, devoid of the aggressive hostility Julian and Helen typically displayed.
“May I come in, Clara?” Victoria asked, her voice calm, modulated, and professional. “I’m not here as Julian’s advocate right now. I’m here as a family member who wants to hear your side of the story before this completely explodes.”
Clara hesitated, her hand trembling slightly on the edge of the door. She looked back at Sarah, who was shaking her head violently in silent warning. Yet, instincts forged through years of navigating toxic family politics told Clara that refusing to speak with Victoria might play directly into their hands. With a steady click, Clara unlatched the chain and swung the door wide open.
“You have five minutes, Victoria,” Clara said, stepping back to let her enter.
Victoria stepped into the cramped apartment, her eyes briefly scanning the modest decor before settling on Clara’s bruised cheek. A flicker of genuine dismay crossed Victoria’s face, though she quickly masked it behind her professional demeanor. She settled onto the sofa where Sarah had cleared a seat, resting her leather briefcase neatly across her knees.
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“I saw the medical report Marcus filed with the temporary injunction,” Victoria began without preamble. “And I saw the preliminary audit regarding the financial transfers. Clara, I didn't know about the physical assault, and I certainly didn't know about the forged signatures on your client accounts. If I had, I would have stepped in long ago.”
Clara crossed her arms defensively, keeping a safe distance. “Words are easy, Victoria. Your mother and your brother spent years convincing me I was crazy, unstable, and entirely dependent on their goodwill. Julian broke my cheekbone because I dared to speak up to Helen. How am I supposed to trust anything a member of that family says?”
