Chapter 8
Sofia kept a notebook.
My sister knew where.
Apparently Sofia had given it to her one week before the boating trip.
I had never seen it.
That hurt.
Elena brought it to me.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
She looked ashamed.
“Sofia asked me not to unless something happened.”
“Something happened.”
“Yes.”
“Then?”
“I thought the accident was an accident.”
Fair.
Wrong.
But fair.
I opened the notebook.
Dates.
Symptoms.
Meals.
People present.
Not dramatic.
Sofia was methodical.
Three entries mentioned Winifred.
Tea served after dinner.
Dessert at a family lunch.
A tonic Winifred insisted would help with headaches.
Then one line:
I think she wants Lucius to believe grief and stress are making me unstable.
My breathing slowed.
The next page:
Theo cried tonight. W took his blanket again. I made her return it. She told me children learn quicker when comfort disappears.
Same philosophy.
Same method.
Then:
If anything happens to me, do not let her raise my son.
I closed the notebook.
For a moment I could not speak.
Elena sat across from me.
“I’m sorry.”
I looked at her.
“No.”
She had not done this.
I reopened the notebook.
The final entry was two days before Sofia died.
W asked whether I changed the lake-house route.
I said yes.
She was angry.
I looked up.
“What route?”
Elena shook her head.
I knew.
The boat.
Sofia had changed which dock we used for family weekends after an argument with Winifred.
I remembered the day she died.
She took the small speedboat alone.
Weather clear.
Engine failure near the eastern rocks.
That was the conclusion.
I stared at the notebook.
Winifred had asked about the route.
Two days later Sofia died on the water.
May you like
I did not accuse her yet.
But suddenly the woman teaching Theo about loss had been standing beside every major loss in his life.
