I gripped the phone.
“My daughter is seven years old.”
“I know.”
“She trusted you.”
Vanessa whispered something I almost missed.
“He was going to make you look unstable.”
The room went silent around me.
“What?”
“Adrian said the next step was showing that you couldn’t make responsible decisions for Maya.”
I remembered the times he’d accused me of being hysterical.
The arguments he’d provoked.
The way he’d told relatives I was becoming obsessive.
Everything suddenly made sense.
Vanessa continued.
“He wanted legal authority over her medical decisions. He thought that would help him pressure the trust administrator.”
I felt cold from head to toe.
“And what were you planning to do to me?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“There’s a video.”
“What video?”
“He recorded you arguing at home.”
My mind flashed to the kitchen security camera Adrian had installed months earlier.
He’d said it was for burglary prevention.
“Then he edited it,” Vanessa whispered. “He wanted you to look dangerous.”
