He didn’t explain.
He didn’t need to.
Claire stood in the snow, holding her daughter, watching her grandfather’s face.
She had never seen him look like that before.
Like a man who already knew the answer.
But needed them to say it out loud.
The warmth inside the Bentley was a shock so sudden it hurt.
Claire’s fingers couldn’t uncurl from around Lily’s blanket.
Her grandfather sat across from her, perfectly still, watching his driver adjust the heat vents.
“Higher,” he said quietly.
The driver turned the dial until warm air flooded the cabin.
Lily’s crying softened to exhausted whimpers.
Claire’s chest hitched.
She tried to speak but nothing came out except a sound like breaking.
Her grandfather reached forward and placed his hand over hers.
His palm was warm.
His grip was steady.
“Breathe, Claire.”
She tried.
“Again.”
She did.
Lily made a small noise and burrowed deeper into Claire’s coat.
Her grandfather’s eyes tracked the movement.
Then he leaned back and pulled his phone from his coat pocket.
He dialed without looking at the screen.
Someone answered on the first ring.
“Robert,” her grandfather said. “I need the records. All of them. Every transfer to the household account for the last five years.”
A pause.
“Yes. Tonight.”
He ended the call.
