Chapter 10
I found Martin’s old voice messages on Anthony’s backup phone.
One remained.
Saved because Anthony could never bring himself to delete it.
Martin’s voice was nervous.
“Tell Winifred I did what she asked. The clamp is loose enough to stall her if she pushes the engine. It shouldn’t sink anything.”
I stopped the message.
Shouldn’t.
My hatred for that word grew.
Shouldn’t hurt.
Shouldn’t break.
Shouldn’t kill.
People use uncertainty as moral shelter after choosing danger.
Anthony sat across from me.
“I should have told you.”
“Yes.”
He nodded.
No excuses.
Good.
“Why didn’t you?”
“Because Martin begged me.”
“And?”
“Winifred said Sofia survived long enough to call for help.”
My jaw tightened.
“She didn’t.”
Anthony looked down.
Exactly.
“The current carried her too far before anyone reached her.”
He whispered:
“I know.”
I replayed the message.
Martin had not intended death.
Winifred may not have either.
That distinction mattered less than she hoped.
She created a dangerous failure on open water to frighten a woman who challenged her.
Then Sofia died.
I looked at Winifred later that night.
She stared back.
“You can’t blame me for current and rocks.”
“No.”
My voice stayed calm.
“I blame you for choosing fear as a tool.”
“She was trying to cut me out.”
“From Theo.”
“He is family.”
“He was her child.”
“He is Armano blood.”
There it was.
Ownership.
Again.
Sofia threatened Winifred’s access to Theo.
Winifred created a scare.
Sofia died.
Then Winifred moved into my house.
Took over grief.
Took Theo’s comfort objects.
Controlled access to me.
She had not simply survived Sofia.
She replaced the space Sofia’s death opened.
I stared.
“You got what you wanted.”
Her face hardened.
“No.”
“You stayed.”
Silence.
“You became the woman deciding how my son grieved.”
Nothing.
“You punished him for missing her.”
Her eyes shifted.
That was the ugliest part.
May you like
Winifred had helped create Theo’s deepest loss.
Then punished him for feeling it.
