Chapter 3
Alistair called Rebecca Sloan before sunrise.
She had handled his legitimate legal matters for fourteen years and had never been impressed by his name.
That was why he trusted her.
He told her exactly what Corinne said.
Rebecca stayed quiet for several seconds.
“Who knew Elena was unaccounted for before the crash?”
“Family security. Police. Daphne. You.”
“Corinne?”
“No.”
“You’re certain?”
“She met me ten months after Elena died.”
“How?”
“At a foundation event.”
“What did she do before that?”
Alistair frowned.
“Development work. Nonprofits. Family-services consulting.”
“You ever verify the details?”
“Yes.”
“Personally?”
“No.”
Rebecca heard the answer.
“So someone else verified the woman you planned to marry.”
Alistair did not appreciate the wording.
It remained accurate.
By noon, Rebecca had Corinne’s employment history.
Most of it matched what Alistair knew.
But one line bothered her.
Three years earlier, Corinne worked for a private family-advocacy firm called Harbor House Legal Support.
The organization was not a law firm.
It provided intake services, case coordination, transportation, and confidential referrals for women seeking family-law representation, separation planning, or temporary relocation.
Alistair stared at the name.
“Why does that matter?”
“It may not.”
Rebecca turned the page.
“Do you remember Elena consulting a family lawyer before she died?”
“No.”
“Did she ever talk about leaving?”
Alistair’s face hardened.
“We fought.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
He looked away.
Elena had hated the danger surrounding his life.
Especially after Sadie was born.
She asked him repeatedly to move family business away from the house.
To stop taking meetings with armed men in rooms where their daughter played.
To reduce travel.
To create something normal.
Alistair always promised changes later.
Later never arrived.
Three days before Elena died, they had their worst argument.
She said:
“I need to know whether there’s a version of our life where Sadie comes before all of this.”
Alistair replied:
“She already does.”
Elena had looked at him for a long time.
Then said:
“You keep confusing what you feel with what you do.”
He still remembered the sentence.
Rebecca interrupted the memory.
“I’m going to search Elena’s financial records for Harbor House.”
Alistair looked at her.
“You think she went there.”
“I think Corinne’s old job is the first thing we’ve found that could connect her to a woman she claims she never knew.”
That afternoon they found a payment.
Eight hundred dollars.
From Elena’s personal account.
May you like
To Harbor House Legal Support.
Dated twelve days before her death.
