“For leverage,” she said, her voice dropping. “In case he ever tried to cut me out.”

The admission made my stomach turn.

Even then, with our mother barely gone, Vanessa had been calculating her next move.

“Play it,” I told Gabriel.

Gabriel clicked the first file.

Static filled the kitchen, followed by the sound of rain, much like the storm outside now.

Then, a voice spoke.

It was Richard Bennett, our father, sounding older and more tired than usual.

“She kept asking about the ledger,” Richard’s voice said through the speakers.

There was a pause, then another voice.

It was Ethan, his tone sharp and clinical.

“Did she find the offshore accounts?” Ethan asked.

“She found the discrepancies,” Richard replied. “She was going to the board on Monday.”

My breath caught in my throat.

I gripped the edge of the kitchen counter until my knuckles turned white.

“You told me she had an attack,” Ethan said on the tape.

“She did,” Richard said. “Her asthma was always worse in the autumn.”

Another long pause stretched over the static.

“But you didn’t give her the inhaler,” Ethan said.