“That’s my good girl,” Grant’s voice said on the tape.

“And what happens if you forget your lines?”

“If I say the wrong thing, we lose the big house and Mommy has to live in a little rental,” Sophie’s small voice replied.

Grant sank back down into his seat, his fingers gripping the edge of his yellow legal pad until his knuckles went white.

The recording clicked once, paused for two seconds, and then started a second audio file dated four weeks earlier.

Natalie Price’s eager voice came over the microphone next.