Chapter 12: Ethan Places the Phone Beside Clara
Ethan did not put the phone in his pocket. He carried it back toward Clara with both hands, keeping the black screen turned outward. The recording had stopped, but the small red mark still showed on the display. I watched it as if the mark could disappear if I blinked.
Clara remained on the marble beside the overturned bucket. Water had spread beneath her knees and reached the edge of Ethan’s shoes. Blood darkened the corner of her lip. She held one hand against the floor and the other close to her ribs, breathing carefully.
Ethan lowered himself beside her. He set the phone on a dry strip of marble near her hand, close enough for me to see and far enough from the water that it would not slide. Then he shifted his body between Clara and Madison.
That choice changed the whole shape of the foyer.
Before, Madison had stood over Clara. Now Ethan stood over both of them. The grand staircase rose behind him, and the front door remained open beyond the wet floor. Cold air moved through the entryway, stirring the fabric of Madison’s crimson pantsuit. She looked at the phone, not at Clara’s mouth or the water or the place where Clara had fallen.
I moved closer to my mother. My shoulder touched hers. She did not reach for me, but her fingers curled against the marble until her knuckles became pale.
Ethan kept one hand near the phone without covering it. He did not pick it up or turn it over. The screen stayed visible between us, showing the frozen last image of Madison’s face.
Madison took one step sideways.
Ethan moved with her.
The sound of his shoe against the marble was small, but it made my stomach tighten. Madison stopped beside the overturned bucket. Her eyes dropped to the water, then lifted toward the phone again. She bent as if she meant to set the bucket upright.
Ethan’s arm extended across the space.
He did not touch her. He only blocked the path.
Madison straightened. Her expression stayed controlled, but one hand closed around the opposite sleeve of her jacket. She looked toward the front door, then the stairs, measuring the distances. Every direction led back to the phone.
I kept my eyes on the device. The black casing had a thin scratch near one corner. I knew that scratch. I had seen it before, when I held the phone beneath the covers and watched the screen glow against my fingers. Now it rested beside Clara, carrying the picture of what had happened and the movements that had led Madison toward the concealed documents.
Clara shifted, and I placed my hand over hers.
Her skin felt cold.
Ethan glanced at me. His face had lost the hard look he had worn when he first entered, but he still watched Madison carefully. He moved the phone a few inches nearer to Clara, then drew his knee closer to the device, making a narrow barrier around it.
Madison tested that barrier again.
She crossed toward the grand staircase, passing behind Ethan’s shoulder. For an instant, the phone was partly hidden from her by his body. Then she stopped and turned back, as though the stairs had not been what she wanted.
Her gaze fixed on the space between Ethan and me.
I understood before she moved. The phone was the last thing keeping her from controlling the story. The documents remained somewhere beyond our sight, but the recording was here, within reach, beside Clara’s hand.
Madison lowered her shoulders and began walking toward us.
Ethan rose.
May you like
The water trembled beneath his shoes. Clara’s hand tightened around mine. I pulled the phone closer without lifting it, keeping its bright screen against the dry marble.
Madison did not stop.
