Then she laughed.

It was one of the saddest sounds I had ever heard.

“All this time.”

She looked at me.

“You won again.”

“This isn’t a game.”

“It has always been a game.”

“No, Clara. That is the lie your father gave you.”

Sirens sounded faintly outside.

Her eyes flicked toward the window.

She understood.

“You called them.”

“David did.”

She backed away.

Then reached into her handbag.

For one horrible second I thought she had a weapon.

Instead, she pulled out a thick envelope.

She threw it onto the table.

Photographs spilled across the floor.

Me leaving restaurants.

Me entering the courthouse.

Me shopping.

Me visiting my husband’s grave.

Copies of my signature.

Bank documents.

Medical records.

A draft petition bearing the heading:

IN RE: GUARDIANSHIP OF HELEN MERCER WARREN, AN ALLEGED DISABLED PERSON.

My stomach turned.

Clara looked at them.

“I could have taken everything.”

“Perhaps.”

“I had doctors ready.”

“Doctors who had examined me?”

“No.”

“So liars.”

“I had witnesses.”

“Paid witnesses?”

She smiled bitterly.

“You’re still cross-examining me.”

“Old habit.”

The sirens grew louder.

She stared at the papers.

Then, unexpectedly, she whispered, “He loved me.”

“David?”

“My father.”

I looked at her.

“I am sure he did.”

That seemed to wound her.

“You don’t get to say that.”

“Why?”

“Because monsters aren’t supposed to love people.”

I softened my voice.

“Clara, monsters aren’t monsters every minute. That’s what makes them dangerous.”

She stared at me.

“Your father could have loved you and still destroyed other people’s lives.”

Her lips trembled.

“And what does that make David?”

The question cut deeply.

Before I could answer, pounding came from the front door.

“Police!”

Clara looked toward it.

Then at me.

“Did you ever wonder why David became a lawyer?”

“Yes.”

“He told me once.”

I waited.

“He said when he was thirteen, he watched you come home after sentencing a man who had threatened your life. You were shaking so badly you couldn’t get the key into the door.”

I remembered that night.

“He said you went into the kitchen, made him hot chocolate and asked about his homework as though nothing had happened.”

Clara’s eyes filled.

“He said that was the moment he decided he wanted to become like you.”

My throat tightened.

“He never told me that.”

“He spent his whole life trying not to need your approval because he needed it too much.”

The police pounded again.

Clara laughed quietly.

“Families are ridiculous.”

Then she walked to the door and opened it.

She did not run.

She did not resist.

As officers entered, she turned once.

Not toward me.

Toward the phone.

“David?”

He was still there.

“Yes.”

“I did love you.”

My son said nothing for several seconds.

Then:

“I know.”

Clara closed her eyes.

The officers led her away.

The investigation lasted eleven months.

Aurelia Senior Management collapsed within three weeks.

Investigators identified thirty-one clients whose assets had been improperly transferred, pledged or controlled.

Some losses were recovered.

Others were not.

Three physicians lost their licenses.

Two financial advisers were charged.

A notary pleaded guilty.

Clara faced multiple counts involving fraud, conspiracy, financial exploitation of elderly persons and obstruction.

The courthouse assault became the smallest charge against her.

David was never charged.