“The document Mrs.
Victoria Vale presented today uses the name of the same laboratory.
The laboratory has confirmed that it did not issue it.”
Victoria gave a sharp laugh.
“That proves nothing.
Anyone could have given me those papers.”
“Then you will have no objection to explaining where you obtained them.”
“I do not answer to you.”
“No,” Harrison said.
“You will answer to the investigators waiting outside.”
A gasp rose from the pews.
Victoria’s eyes flashed toward the cathedral doors.
Harrison had locked them when he entered, not to trap us, but to stop anyone from slipping away before Arthur’s instructions were carried out.
On the screen, Arthur reached for a glass of water.
“Three weeks ago, I discovered that someone using Mother’s private assistant had contacted the laboratory and requested information about our prenatal testing.
The laboratory refused.
Two days later, Harrison’s office received an anonymous message offering to sell what the sender called evidence that Clara’s child was not mine.”
Beatrice looked at Victoria.
It was quick, almost invisible, but I saw it.
So did Harrison.
Arthur continued.
“The attached records include the message, the originating account information, and a payment made from an account controlled by Mother to a document-forging service.
The service has already provided a sworn statement.”
Victoria’s composure cracked.
“This is insane.”
She marched toward the projector.
Harrison stepped between her and the cart.
“Sit down.”
“You cannot order me around at my son’s funeral.”
“I am not ordering you as a guest,” Harrison replied.
“I am advising you as counsel for Arthur’s estate.”
Victoria looked toward the front row for support.
No one stood.
The same relatives who had whispered about me now studied their programs or stared at the floor.
They had been eager to witness my disgrace.
They were less eager to be seen beside the person who had manufactured it.
Beatrice opened her fist.
My wedding ring lay in her palm.
She took one uncertain step toward me.
“Clara, I didn’t know—”
“You ripped it off my hand.”
My voice was quiet, but the cathedral carried it.
Beatrice stopped.
“Mother said Arthur had discovered the affair before he died.
She said he was going to divorce you.”
I looked at Victoria.
She did not deny it.
Instead, she pointed at the screen.
“This was Clara’s doing.
She turned him against his own family.
She filled his head with suspicion and made him record this theatrical nonsense.”
Arthur’s recorded voice answered again.
“If Mother accuses Clara of turning me against my family, remember this: I began documenting Mother’s conduct before I told Clara any of it.”
The room became utterly silent.
Arthur looked tired now, not frightened, but disappointed.
“For years, I excused Mother’s behavior as protectiveness.
