Mark’s voice: “Listen to me. Unlock the account. If you refuse, I will forge your signature.”

Vivian’s voice, frail and weeping: “I saw the paperwork in your briefcase, Mark. The hospital. The steel. You built a children’s hospital out of rotting metal. I’m calling the authorities. I won’t let you hurt people.”

A heavy, sickening crash — the sound of a frail body hitting the floor.

Mark’s voice, cold: “You aren’t calling anyone. I’m taking your phone. I’m taking the landline. You’re going to lie in that bed until you can’t anymore, and if Claire tries to get you help, I’ll destroy her too. Be quiet, Mother.”

The tape cut to dead air. The silence was suffocating.

The proof of his elder abuse, his assault, his imprisonment of her hung in the room like a judgment from beyond the grave. He had isolated her deliberately, speeding her decline to protect his fraud.