William called his mother that night.

He stood outside on the back step in the cold, the door pulled shut behind him, and he listened to the phone ring four times before she picked up.

"William." Her voice was warm.

Tired.

She had been asleep.

"Mom.

I need to ask you something and I need you to be honest with me."

A pause.

"What's wrong?"

"The house.

Mom's house — Grandma's house.

The one she left to you and Lily jointly."

Silence.

"Mom."

"William, it's late—"

"Is the house still yours?"

The silence this time was longer.

He heard her breathing.

"No," she said finally.

"It was sold.

Eight months ago."

His hand tightened on the phone.

"Who sold it?"

"Lily signed her half over to me.

She said she didn't want it.

She said she needed me to have full control so I could sell it and use the money for my medical bills." Another pause.

"I thought she told you."

"She didn't tell me."

"The sale went through a lawyer.

Sandra recommended him.

She said he was someone you trusted through work." His mother's voice shifted slightly.

"William, what is happening?"

"How much did the house sell for?"

"The lawyer said the market was difficult.

We got two hundred and forty thousand."

William closed his eyes.

His grandmother's house had been appraised three years ago at four hundred and ten thousand dollars.

"Mom, I need you to find the paperwork from that sale.

Everything.

The lawyer's name, the buyer's name, the final sale price, everything.

Can you do that?"

"You're scaring me."

"I know.

I'm sorry.

Can you do it?"

"Yes.

William — is Lily all right?"

He looked through the glass of the back door into the kitchen.

Sandra was still at the table.

She hadn't moved.

She was looking at her phone.

"She will be," he said.

"I'll call you tomorrow."

He hung up and went back inside.

Sandra looked up when he came in.

"The house sold for two hundred and forty thousand," he said.

"My grandmother's house.

Appraised at four hundred and ten."

"Property values fluctuate—"

"The lawyer was yours.

The buyer — I'm going to guess — connects back to Daniel."

Sandra said nothing.

"That's not sixty-three thousand," William said.

"That's closer to two hundred thousand in the gap between what that house was worth and what my mother was paid for it.

And my mother's name is on that sale."

"Your mother agreed to everything."

"My mother trusted you."

"She trusted the process."

William pulled out the chair across from her and sat down.

He leaned forward.

"Sandra.

I am trying very hard right now to keep this conversation calm.

But I need you to understand something." He looked at her steadily.

"Lily came here to tell me all of this.

And instead of letting her talk to me, you put her under the floor of my house and told my six-year-old daughter that she would end up there too if she said a word."

Sandra's chin lifted slightly.

"I protected this family," she said.

"From what?"

"From her.

From the chaos she brings.

You don't remember what she was like before, William.

You've rewritten it.

She has always caused problems.

She has always come between us."

"She's my sister."

"She came here to destroy our marriage."

"She came here to tell me the truth." He stood up.

"And you buried her under the kitchen floor to stop her."

Sandra's composure finally broke — not into tears, but into something colder.

"If you go to the police," she said, "I will tell them Lily broke in.

I will tell them she was threatening me.

I will tell them I was frightened for Eva's safety and I panicked.

I have a daughter in this house, William.

Any jury in the country will understand a mother who panicked."

William looked at her for a long moment.

"Eva already told me," he said quietly, "that you threatened her.

A six-year-old.

That she would end up down there too."

Sandra's mouth opened.

Then closed.

"That's not a mother who panicked," William said.

"That's something else entirely."

He picked up his own phone from the counter.

"What are you doing?" Sandra said.

"Calling someone."

"William—"

"Not the police.

Not yet." He found the number and pressed call.

"I'm calling my lawyer."

Sandra stood up fast.

Her chair scraped back hard.

"If you do this," she said, "I will take Eva.

I will take her and you will not see her for years.

I know how to make that happen.

Daniel has a lawyer who specializes in exactly this—"

The call connected.

"Martin," William said into the phone.

"I need you tonight.

I know it's late.

I'll explain when you get here." He paused.

"Yes.

Bring everything you have on joint asset protection.

And bring a notary if you can."

He hung up.

Sandra was still standing.

Her hands were at her sides now.

The composure was gone.

What was underneath it was not what William had expected.

She looked afraid.

Not of him.

Of something else.

Something she hadn't said yet.

"What else is there?" William said.

She pressed her lips together.

"Sandra.

What else is there that I haven't found yet?"

She looked at the hallway.

Then back at him.

And she sat back down without saying a word.