Chapter 7 - The Woman in Green Who Knew About the Cameras
Celeste asked to see me two days later.
My first answer was no.
Then she sent one sentence through her attorney.
Vivian knew about the hidden camera in the cellar.
I changed my mind.
We met in a conference room at Elias’s law office.
Celeste wore no makeup.
No emerald gown.
No diamonds.
Just black pants and a gray sweater.
She looked younger.
Less polished.
More dangerous in a different way because there was nowhere left for performance to hide.
Nathan wanted to attend.
I told him no.
Elias sat with me because I asked him to.
Celeste’s lawyer sat beside her.
For a full minute, nobody spoke.
Then I asked, “How did Vivian know about the camera?”
Celeste looked at her hands.
“She told me.”
“When?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“How did she know?”
“I don’t know.”
“Try harder.”
Her eyes lifted.
“Grant told her your father installed private security when the trust was created.”
“Grant claimed there were no cameras.”
“He thought the system was dead.”
“But Vivian didn’t?”
Celeste shook her head.
“She said one cellar camera still recorded locally.”
My skin went cold.
“Then why stage everything in front of it?”
Celeste’s mouth tightened.
“That’s what I asked.”
“And?”
“She said she needed footage.”
Elias leaned forward.
“For what?”
Celeste looked at me.
“To show Claire becoming violent.”
I almost laughed.
“I was tied to a column.”
“That was not the original plan.”
The room went silent.
Celeste continued.
“The original plan was to provoke you. Grant was supposed to confront you over the wrap. You were supposed to lose your temper. Dr. Wynn was supposed to arrive and say he witnessed enough behavior to support an emergency petition.”
“What changed?”
“Grant started drinking.”
That fit.
I remembered bourbon on his breath.
“He got angry.”
“Yes.”
“And Vivian let him.”
Celeste closed her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You knew enough to fake a wrap.”
Tears filled her eyes.
I did not care.
Not yet.
She said, “I thought they were trying to scare you into signing. I thought Grant wanted a clean divorce.”
“You were sleeping with him.”
“Yes.”
“At my daughter’s birthday.”
“Yes.”
“You helped frame me.”
“Yes.”
I leaned back.
“What exactly do you want from me?”
“Nothing.”
“That’s a lie.”
She flinched.
Then she reached into her bag and took out a flash drive.
“Vivian gave me this.”
Elias immediately put on gloves before taking it.
“What is it?”
“Video clips.”
“From the cellar?”
“From all over the house.”
I stared.
Celeste said, “She had been collecting them for months.”
“Why?”
“To build a file against you.”
“Doing what?”
“Arguing with Grant. Drinking wine. Crying. Raising your voice. Leaving the house late. Everything taken out of context.”
I felt sick.
Privacy had become evidence.
Ordinary marriage had become prosecution material.
Celeste continued.
“There’s more.”
Of course.
“Vivian told me to make sure the silver wrap was visible to Camera Seven.”
“The cellar camera.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She wanted the story to be that you destroyed it before attacking me.”
Elias said, “But Celeste never got attacked.”
“She planned to say Claire shoved her.”
I stared at Celeste.
“You were going to accuse me of assault.”
“Yes.”
“And you changed your mind when?”
She swallowed.
“When Grant hit you the first time.”
I wanted to believe that mattered.
Part of me hated that it did.
“Why didn’t you stop him?”
“I tried.”
“You didn’t leave.”
“No.”
“You didn’t call police.”
“No.”
“You stayed.”
“Yes.”
Her voice broke.
“I was afraid.”
I leaned forward.
“So was I.”
She cried silently.
Good.
Fear could explain.
It could not erase.
Elias asked, “Why give us the drive?”
Celeste wiped her face.
“Because Vivian is trying to destroy the original footage now.”
“How?”
“She called me from a burner phone yesterday. Told me if I stayed quiet, she would pay my legal fees.”
Elias’s eyes sharpened.
“Did you record that?”
Celeste nodded.
Another thread.
Another mistake by Vivian.
I asked, “Why does she care this much about the trust?”
Celeste looked confused.
“Grant said because of the refinancing.”
“Only that?”
She hesitated.
“Vivian said the house was never supposed to belong to Lila.”
My chest tightened.
“What does that mean?”
“She said Anthony Moretti cheated the Ashfords.”
Elias and I looked at each other.
“Cheated how?”
Celeste shook her head.
“I don’t know. She said the house was payment for something that should have been buried.”
The old debt agreement.
The yellow folder.
My father’s letters.
Everything was circling the same secret.
When the meeting ended, Celeste stood.
“Claire.”
I looked at her.
“I am sorry.”
“I know.”
She waited.
I did not forgive her.
Not because I wanted revenge.
Because forgiveness offered too early becomes another way women are asked to make other people comfortable.
She nodded.
Then she left.
Elias plugged the flash drive into an isolated laptop.
Hundreds of clips.
Dining room.
Kitchen.
Hallway.
Nursery.
Cellar.
Then one file name stopped me.
ANTHONY_MORETTI_2001.
My father had died eight years ago.
The clip was twenty-four years old.
Security footage from the house before Grant and I married.
In it, a much younger Vivian Ashford stood in the wine cellar with my father.
They were arguing.
There was no sound for the first minute.
Then audio came in.
Vivian said, “If Charles finds out that girl is yours, both families are finished.”
Elias froze.
I stopped breathing.
My father answered.
“She is not mine.”
Vivian laughed.
May you like
“Then why did you pay for her birth certificate to disappear?”
The screen went black.
