I set my phone on the coffee table, unlocked it, and pressed play, and the room filled with the sound of my own bedroom door, and then with Arthur’s voice.

You’ve been asking questions.

About Bellhaven… let them stay settled — because if you don’t, I will make sure that when this family looks at you, they see a liar, a troublemaker…

I’ve done it before.

I am very good at it.

And David will believe me, because David always believes me. The recording was clear.

There was no static to hide behind, no ambiguity to argue with, no way to call it a misunderstanding.

It was Arthur, in his own voice, threatening to destroy me to keep me quiet about Bellhaven — and in doing so, admitting Bellhaven was a thing that needed keeping quiet.