I clicked open the second audio file saved on the purple plastic toy phone recorder.

The track began with the low, steady rumble of Grant’s car engine idling.

“When the court advocate asks why Mommy wasn’t in the kitchen making breakfast, what do you say?” Grant’s recorded voice came through the earpieces, soft and clear.

A long pause followed on the tape, broken only by the faint rustle of Sophie’s sweater sleeve.

“Tell her Mommy stays locked in the bathroom for hours,” Grant said on the recording.

“Say it twice so she writes it down in her notebook.”