Sisterly Advice

The deep pockets had to belong to Eleanor and Arthur. The realization sat heavy in my chest, a cold knot of certainty. I closed the encrypted terminal and shut down the laptop.

I couldn't crack the trust from my office. I needed an in. I needed someone inside the Hayes family ecosystem who was prone to talking.

I needed Sarah.

The local cafe was packed with the mid-morning rush of remote workers and athleisure-clad mothers. I spotted my sister-in-law immediately. Sarah was tucked into a corner booth, nursing an elaborate matcha latte. She was Julian’s younger sister, permanently exhausted by the weight of the family name and her own lack of direction.

"Clara! Over here." She waved, a heavy stack of silver bracelets clinking against her wrist.

I slid into the booth opposite her, setting my plain black coffee on the table. "Thanks for meeting me, Sarah. I know you're busy."

"Hardly." She rolled her eyes. "Mom has me organizing the silent auction for the gala. It’s endless. Who actually wants to bid on a weekend in Aspen with Arthur’s golfing buddies?"

I forced a laugh, leaning forward. "Speaking of the gala, I'm trying to finalize the budget projections for Julian’s firm before the end of the month. The tax deadline is looming."

Sarah took a sip of her matcha, leaving a green foam mustache on her upper lip. "Julian’s firm always does fine. Mom and Dad make sure of it."

"They do," I agreed smoothly. "But I've noticed Julian seems... stressed lately. More than usual."

Sarah’s eyes darted away, focusing on a barista wiping down the espresso machine. "He works hard, Clara. The city contracts are demanding."

"It's not just work." I lowered my voice, projecting the perfect image of a concerned, loyal wife. "He's taking a lot of unexpected trips. Mostly out west. Toward Oak Brook."

Sarah’s hand twitched. A single drop of green foam spilled onto the polished wooden table.

"Oak Brook?" she repeated. Her voice was suddenly thin, lacking its usual dramatic flair.

"Yes. I saw some router logs. He’s out there twice a week. He says it’s a site visit for a client named Peterson, but..." I let the sentence hang, implying a suspicion I didn't actually hold. I wanted her to think I suspected an affair, not a fully funded parallel family.

"Julian wouldn't..." Sarah started, then stopped. She grabbed a napkin and dabbed aggressively at the spilled foam. "You're reading too much into it, Clara. He's an architect. He goes where the buildings are."

"But you know how close he is with Eleanor," I pressed, watching her face carefully. "If the Trust is funding a new development out there, and it's putting this much pressure on him, I need to know. For the taxes."

Sarah crumpled the napkin in her fist. The easy camaraderie of the coffee date vanished, replaced by the rigid, defensive posture of a Hayes protecting the perimeter.

"The Trust is Arthur's business. And Mom's." She leaned across the table, her tone suddenly mirroring Eleanor’s sharp condescension. "You shouldn't be digging into things that don't concern you, Clara. If Julian says he’s working, he’s working."

"I'm just trying to keep the books balanced, Sarah."

"Then balance the books you're given." She picked up her latte, her knuckles white. "Julian would never step out on you, Clara. He knows what he'd lose."

Her eyes flicked away too fast.