As the security system activated, Rochelle began screaming at the cameras. “Natalie! Open this door immediately! You can’t lock us inside!” Garrett tried the windows, but the steel shutters wouldn’t move. Josephine rushed toward the entrance and pulled at the handle repeatedly. My father remained near the fireplace, holding the folder against his chest. Then the speaker system crackled, and a familiar voice filled every room. It was my father’s voice, recorded during a phone call the previous winter. He had called me that night asking for another transfer of money, claiming creditors were threatening to take everything he owned.

In the recording, my father could be heard speaking to Rochelle after he thought the call had ended. “There are no creditors,” he said, laughing. “Natalie always pays. She believes everything I tell her.” Rochelle laughed too. Then he added, “The money is enough to keep Garrett comfortable, and once the villa is transferred, we’ll never have to worry again.” The room became silent. Garrett slowly turned toward his father, while Rochelle stopped shouting. I watched my father’s expression change as he realized that the recording had been preserved. He had forgotten that the call had remained connected, and he had never imagined those words would eventually be played back inside the very house he had tried to steal.