Chapter 2 - THE BOY WHO LIED TO THE JUDGE
Élodie didn't open the second recording immediately.
She wanted to.
Every instinct screamed at her to discover what Mathéo had hidden.
But Thomas Vasseur's warning kept repeating in her mind.
Do not return to your apartment.
She looked around the airport café.
A businessman was typing on his phone.
Two tourists argued over a boarding pass.
A woman in a gray coat sat near the window, reading a magazine.
Nothing appeared unusual.
And that frightened Élodie more than anything.
Because Laurent had always been dangerous in ways that looked perfectly ordinary.
He never shouted when other people were watching.
He never threatened her in public.
He smiled, shook hands, donated money, and remembered birthdays.
He had built an entire reputation around being the kind of man people trusted.
During their marriage, Élodie had mistaken that reputation for character.
Now she wondered how many other people had made the same mistake.
She copied the recordings onto her laptop, then into an encrypted folder she had created years earlier for work documents.
After that, she opened the second file.
Mathéo's voice filled her headphones.
“Mom, if you're listening to this, please don't be scared.”
Élodie immediately began crying.
Her little boy sounded exhausted.
There was a faint hum in the background.
Perhaps an air conditioner.
Perhaps a refrigerator.
“I know what I said in court hurt you. I'm sorry. I didn't mean it.”
She pressed her fingers against her lips.
“I wanted to tell the judge the truth, but Dad said if I did, something bad would happen to you.”
Élodie's tears fell onto the table.
“He showed me pictures of you walking home from work. Pictures of our apartment. Pictures of the grocery store you go to.”
The boy paused.
“I asked him why he had them. He said rich people can find anyone.”
Élodie felt physically sick.
“He told me that if I chose you, you might have an accident. Like Uncle Gabriel.”
A sob escaped her.
For years, Mathéo had believed Gabriel died before he was old enough to remember him.
She had told her son stories about his uncle.
How Gabriel made terrible pancakes.
How he loved astronomy.
How he once drove four hours through a snowstorm to bring Élodie a birthday cake after her train was canceled.
She had never told Mathéo about the strange phone call before Gabriel's death.
Yet somehow Laurent had used that death to terrify their child.
Mathéo continued.
“I didn't know what to do. I thought if I went with Dad, he'd leave you alone.”
His voice cracked.
“I thought maybe I could be brave for both of us.”
Élodie bowed her head.
For months, she had wondered whether she had failed as a mother.
Now she understood that her son had been carrying a burden no child should ever have to carry.
“Mom, I heard Dad talking to Aunt Isabelle. He said there was something hidden in Uncle Gabriel's old things. Something you didn't know about.”
A rustling sound came through the recording.
Then Mathéo whispered:
“I found a key.”
Élodie stopped crying.
“A tiny silver key. It was taped inside the back cover of my adventure book.”
She remembered packing that book.
Its blue cover was worn at the corners.
Gabriel had given it to Mathéo for his fifth birthday.
He had written a message on the first page.
For my favorite explorer. The greatest treasures are the truths we protect.
Élodie had always thought it was simply a sweet dedication.
Mathéo continued.
“I think Uncle Gabriel wanted me to find it when I got older. There's a number written on the key.”
He read the number aloud.
“Forty-seven, eighteen, nine.”
Élodie repeated it quietly.
“Forty-seven. Eighteen. Nine.”
“Dad doesn't know I found it. I put it in my shoe.”
The recording fell silent for several seconds.
Then Mathéo said:
“Mom, I need you to know something.”
His voice became very small.
“I wasn't trying to leave you.”
Élodie covered her face.
“I was trying to make sure I could come back.”
The recording ended.
She sat motionless.
Her son's words had destroyed the last illusion she held about Laurent.
This wasn't a bitter custody dispute.
It was calculated cruelty.
And Mathéo had been forced to choose between his mother's love and his mother's safety.
Élodie wanted to call him.
She wanted to hear his voice.
She wanted to tell him he had done nothing wrong.
But Laurent controlled his phone.
Every call could expose what the boy had done.
Instead, she opened a message to Mathéo.
She typed:
I love you. Nothing you said in court could ever change that.
Then she hesitated.
If Laurent read the message, he might become suspicious.
She deleted it.
A moment later, her phone rang again.
This time, the caller was her lawyer, Claire Beaumont.
“Élodie, where are you?”
“At the airport.”
“Listen carefully. Laurent's attorney just contacted me.”
Élodie's stomach tightened.
“What does he want?”
“He claims you've violated the custody agreement.”
“What? I haven't done anything!”
“He says you attempted to give Mathéo unauthorized electronic equipment before departure.”
Élodie looked at the memory card.
“That isn't true.”
“I know. But they're preparing an emergency complaint.”
“Claire, I need to tell you something.”
“Not over the phone.”
“It's about Gabriel.”
Silence.
Then Claire asked:
“Your brother?”
“Yes.”
“Élodie, come to my office immediately. Use a taxi. Don't go home.”
“Why does everyone keep telling me that?”
Claire hesitated.
“Because I received something this morning.”
“What?”
“An envelope.”
Élodie's heart began racing.
“What kind of envelope?”
“A blue one.”
She stood so abruptly that her chair scraped against the floor.
“Who sent it?”
“There was no return address.”
“What was inside?”
Claire lowered her voice.
“A photograph of Gabriel.”
Élodie gripped the phone.
“And?”
May you like
Claire took a shaky breath.
“Élodie, the photograph was taken three months after your brother supposedly died.”
