“I tried.”
“No one called me.”
“Three calls were made to your personal phone. All went unanswered. Two letters were sent to your home in Denver. Both were signed for.”
My mouth went dry.
Victor.
Victor had always brought in the mail. Victor had replaced my phone after claiming mine was outdated. Victor had laughed whenever I misplaced things, calling me forgetful, especially during pregnancy.
“What did the letters say?” I asked.
“That I wished to speak with you privately regarding your mother’s estate.”
“My mother’s estate?”
“It seemed less alarming than claiming to be your father in a letter.”
I stared at the ceiling, nausea rolling through me.
Victor had known.
Maybe not everything, but enough. Enough to intercept. Enough to worry. Enough to hurry.
“Victor increased the policy nine weeks ago,” Adrian said quietly.
I turned back to him.
“He increased it?”
“From five million to fifty.”
