Chapter 2: The Renovation
The movers left just before sunset.
Sarah stood on the porch while they carried the last mattress back toward the truck.
She wouldn't look at me.
Greg did.
“I'm sorry,” he said quietly.
Sarah snapped her head toward him.
“Greg.””
He stopped.
I watched them climb into the truck.
Before Sarah got inside, she turned back.
“You've changed, Mom.””
I held the door open.
“No. I finally started saying no.””
She stared at me for a long moment.
Then she climbed into the passenger seat.
The truck disappeared down the road.
I closed the door and leaned against it.
The cottage was silent again.
But it didn't feel like my mother's cottage anymore.
It felt searched.
Violated.
I walked through every room.
The bedroom drawers were open. My filing cabinet had been moved three inches. A framed photograph of my mother had been taken off the mantel and placed facedown on the sofa.
I picked it up.
Dust marked the outline where it had stood.
My phone rang.
It was Daniel, the contractor I'd hired six months earlier to finish the kitchen and bathroom.
I answered.
“Daniel?””
“Hey, Claire. Everything okay?””
I almost laughed.
“No.””
There was a pause.
“What happened?””
“Sarah tried to move in.””
“Sarah?””
“Yes.””
Another pause.
Then he said, “Well, that explains some things.””
My stomach tightened.
“What things?””
Daniel exhaled.
“I've been getting messages about the renovation.””
“From me?””
“No. From Sarah.””
I sat down.
“What kind of messages?””
“She wanted some changes.””
“What changes?””
He hesitated.
“She asked about opening up the back bedroom.””
“What does that mean?””
“I assumed you'd approved it.””
“I didn't.””
Silence.
Then Daniel said, “She specifically asked about removing the wall between the bedroom and the small sitting room.””
I stood up.
“Daniel, I have never approved that.””
“I know that now.””
“No. You don't understand. That wall contains the original built-in shelves my mother made.””
“I know.””
“And I told you not to touch them.””
“I remember.””
I looked toward the hallway.
For two years, I had been restoring the cottage exactly as my mother had left it. Every board, every brass hinge, every shelf mattered.
“Did you already remove anything?””
“No,” Daniel said.
“We were scheduled to start tomorrow.””
I let out a breath.
“Cancel it.””
“I will.””
He sounded uncomfortable.
“There is something else.””
My hand tightened around the phone.
“What?””
“Sarah told me that if you called and tried to change the plans, I should contact her first.””
I couldn't speak.
Daniel continued.
“She said you weren't capable of keeping track of the renovation anymore.””
My heart began pounding.
“What exactly did she tell you?””
“She said you'd been forgetting things.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I walked to the kitchen and gripped the counter.
“Daniel, did she ever have access to my plans?””
“Some of them.””
“How?””
“She said you gave them to her.””
“I didn't.””
“Claire, I'm sorry.””
I closed my eyes.
Then I remembered something.
Two weeks earlier, I had come to the cottage and found the back door unlocked.
I'd assumed I'd simply forgotten to lock it.
Now I wasn't so sure.
“Daniel,” I said, “when did Sarah first contact you?””
“About two weeks ago.””
“Was she alone?””
“No.””
“Who was with her?””
He paused.
“Greg.””
I stared at the hallway.
Two weeks.
That was exactly when the door had been unlocked.
“Did they ask about anything besides the wall?””
Daniel went quiet.
Then he said, “Yes.””
“What?””
“They asked me how much the cottage was worth after the renovation.””
My fingers went cold.
“Did you tell them?””
“No. I told them that was none of my business.””
I thanked him and ended the call.
For several minutes, I stood in the kitchen without moving.
Then I heard something outside.
A car door slammed.
I looked through the window.
A dark SUV was parked across the street.
The driver's window lowered.
Sarah was behind the wheel.
May you like
She wasn't alone.
And the man sitting beside her was holding a folder with my name printed across the front.
