Chapter 2: The Conversation They Thought I Would Never Hear
The recorder crackled.
Then Bianca's voice filled the living room.
"Once Alexander signs the papers, his mother won't have much choice.""
I watched my daughter-in-law's face.
Her lips parted.
"Turn that off.""
I didn't move.
The recording continued.
Ewald's voice followed hers.
"What if the old woman refuses?""
Bianca laughed.
"She won't. Alexander will convince her. He always feels guilty when she gets upset.""
Lydia interrupted.
"And what about the apartment?""
"That's the easiest part," Bianca replied.
"We just need to make her believe she's helping her son.""
Alexander looked at me.
"What papers?""
I remained silent.
The recording continued.
Ewald cleared his throat.
"How much could the apartment bring?""
"At least two hundred and eighty thousand," Bianca answered.
"Possibly more if we renovate it first.""
Lydia sounded concerned.
"And she'll agree to sell?""
Bianca laughed again.
"She doesn't understand these things. Alexander can tell her it's an investment. We'll say we're protecting her retirement.""
I pressed STOP.
The silence afterward was so complete that I could hear the refrigerator humming in the kitchen.
Alexander looked at his wife.
"What apartment are you talking about?""
Bianca recovered quickly.
"Alexander, this is ridiculous. Your mother is recording private conversations and twisting everything.""
I raised one eyebrow.
"Would you like me to play the rest?""
"You're sick," she snapped.
Ewald stood.
"Give me that device.""
He stepped toward the coffee table.
I placed my hand over the recorder.
"Sit down, Ewald.""
He stopped.
For a man who had spent the afternoon treating me like an inconvenience, he suddenly looked uncertain.
Alexander turned toward his father-in-law.
"Why were you discussing my mother's apartment?""
Ewald adjusted his expensive watch.
"Son, you need to understand the situation. Bianca was only trying to help.""
"Help whom?""
"Your family.""
Alexander laughed bitterly.
"My family? You mean you?""
Bianca moved closer to him.
"Don't let your mother manipulate you.""
Those words hurt more than she could possibly understand.
For three years, she had used that exact sentence whenever Alexander questioned her behavior.
Your mother is manipulating you.
Your mother is trying to control you.
Your mother doesn't respect our marriage.
And each time, my son had slowly learned to doubt his own memories.
I leaned forward.
"Alexander, do you remember the documents you brought to my apartment last November?""
He frowned.
"What documents?""
"The ones Bianca said were necessary for your mortgage application.""
His expression changed.
"Yes. You signed them.""
"No, darling. I didn't.""
Bianca immediately interrupted.
"That's not what happened.""
I looked directly at her.
"You brought me a folder containing six documents. You said one was a consent form allowing you to use my apartment address for correspondence.""
"Because that's what it was!""
"Then why did Friedrich Weber find a preliminary property authorization among the copies?""
Alexander turned toward her.
"Bianca?""
She folded her arms.
"Your mother is confused.""
I reached into my handbag.
I removed a transparent plastic folder.
Inside were copies of the documents, each marked with handwritten notes.
I placed them on the coffee table.
"Friedrich has been helping me review my financial records. He noticed something unusual.""
Alexander picked up the first page.
His eyes moved across the text.
Then he stopped.
"Mom, what is this?""
"A preliminary authorization to negotiate the sale of my apartment.""
He looked at Bianca.
"You told me these were harmless forms.""
"They were just drafts!""
"Why did you want her to sign them?""
Bianca's voice became sharper.
"Because we're trying to build a future! Your mother has a large apartment she barely uses, while we're struggling with our mortgage.""
I stared at her.
"You own a house with three bedrooms.""
"That doesn't mean we're wealthy.""
"And your father?""
Ewald shifted in his chair.
I continued.
"Your father owns a house, drives a Mercedes, and recently purchased a holiday property.""
Lydia's cheeks turned pink.
"That's none of your business.""
"Neither is my apartment.""
For a moment, nobody answered.
Then Alexander lowered the papers.
"Bianca, did you really intend to sell my mother's home?""
She looked at him as if he had asked the stupidest question in the world.
"Alexander, listen to yourself. She's seventy-two. She doesn't need a large apartment.""
"That's not an answer.""
"We could have helped her find somewhere smaller.""
"With whose permission?""
"Yours!""
He shook his head.
"That's her home.""
Bianca's expression hardened.
"You're choosing your mother over your wife?""
Alexander looked exhausted.
"I'm asking you a simple question.""
I could see the struggle in his face.
He wanted to believe her.
He wanted the past three years to have been a misunderstanding.
I understood that.
Trust doesn't disappear the moment evidence appears. Sometimes it takes time for someone to accept that the person they love has been lying to them.
So I didn't push him.
Instead, I opened the folder again.
"There's another document.""
I removed a printed bank statement.
"Do you recognize this account?""
Alexander leaned closer.
His eyes widened.
"That's my savings account.""
"Yes.""
He looked at me.
"Why do you have that?""
"Because you sent me a copy last December when you asked me to help you understand an unexplained transfer.""
He frowned.
"I thought the bank had corrected that.""
"Did it?""
He took the paper.
A transfer of €18,400 had been made from his savings account to a company called EW Property Consulting.
The date was December 14.
The recipient's name was printed clearly.
EW.
Ewald Weber.
Alexander slowly turned toward his father-in-law.
"What is this?""
Ewald cleared his throat.
"That was a temporary arrangement.""
"What arrangement?""
Bianca stepped between them.
"Alexander, we discussed this.""
"No, we didn't.""
"You were stressed. I handled it.""
"Handled what?""
Ewald finally spoke.
"I was going through a difficult period. The money was supposed to be returned.""
Alexander stared at him.
"That was my money.""
"I know.""
"Did you ask me?""
Ewald looked toward Bianca.
She looked away.
Alexander's hands began shaking.
"Did you ask me?""
"No," Ewald admitted.
I watched my son put the pieces together.
The strange phone calls.
The missing savings.
The sudden pressure to sell my apartment.
The constant insistence that he should stop worrying about my finances and focus on Bianca's family.
It had never been about helping anyone.
It had been about access.
I reached into my handbag once more.
This time, I removed a small envelope containing a business card.
"There's something else you should know, Alexander.""
He looked at me.
"Before coming here today, I met with Friedrich. He found the company registration records connected to that transfer.""
Bianca's eyes narrowed.
"What records?""
I handed Alexander the card.
On the back, Friedrich had written a company registration number.
"Your father-in-law's company was dissolved two years ago," I explained.
"But the bank account receiving your money was still active.""
Alexander looked at Ewald.
"Why?""
Ewald said nothing.
Then Lydia suddenly stood.
"This is getting out of hand. Ewald, we're leaving.""
But before either of them could move, Alexander spoke.
"Nobody is leaving until I understand where my €18,400 went.""
Ewald's face tightened.
Bianca looked at her father.
Then she looked at me.
And for the first time, I saw something beyond anger in her expression.
Fear.
She reached for Alexander's arm.
"Darling, please. We need to talk privately.""
He pulled away.
"No more private conversations.""
Then my phone vibrated inside my handbag.
A message had arrived from Friedrich.
I opened it.
There were only two sentences.
Helga, I've found the original authorization. You need to see who signed it.
Below the message was a photograph of a document.
I enlarged it.
My fingers went cold.
May you like
Because the signature at the bottom wasn't mine.
It was Alexander's.
