Chapter 7
Forgery.
The word sounded unreal when Rebecca said it.
Then she said it again.
“If you did not sign this agreement, we may be dealing with fraud and forgery.”
“I didn’t sign it.”
“Are you certain?”
“I would remember signing away my house.”
“Then we preserve the document and get the original if possible.”
Megan paced across Sarah’s living room.
“Can Ryan actually lose the house?”
Rebecca answered through speakerphone.
“Not necessarily. There are serious questions about whether Ryan had authority to pledge jointly owned property, especially if Emily’s signature was forged.”
“Who is Thomas Walker?” Megan asked.
“Ryan’s father,” I said.
“The deadbeat?”
“Apparently the deadbeat with ninety-five thousand dollars.”
Rebecca interrupted.
“Emily, I need a complete history of what you know about Thomas.”
Not much.
That was the problem.
Ryan said his father left when Ryan was seventeen.
He said Thomas cheated on Diane.
He said there had been gambling.
Fighting.
Debt.
He claimed they had not spoken since Ryan was twenty.
Diane refused to say Thomas’s name.
When I once asked whether Thomas should be invited to our wedding, Ryan punched a wall.
That had been the first time I saw that side of him.
He apologized immediately.
Said the subject brought back trauma.
I never asked again.
Now I wondered how many boundaries Ryan created simply to keep me from finding the truth.
Rebecca hired an investigator.
By that evening, we knew Thomas lived forty minutes outside Dallas.
He owned three auto dealerships.
He had remarried.
He was very much alive.
And according to public business records, Ryan had done consulting work for one of Thomas’s companies two years earlier.
Two years.
Ryan had lied for at least two years.
Maybe longer.
My phone rang.
Diane.
I almost ignored it.
Then something told me to answer.
“Hello?”
“You went into Ryan’s office.”
Not a question.
My skin prickled.
“How do you know?”
“You had no right.”
“It’s my house.”
“That office is private.”
“So is my medical chart.”
Silence.
Good.
I continued.
“Did you know Ryan borrowed ninety-five thousand dollars from Thomas?”
Diane inhaled.
There.
I had my answer.
“You knew.”
“Emily, listen to me.”
“Did you know?”
“Yes.”
The word hit hard.
“Did you know he used the house as collateral?”
“No.”
“Did you know he forged my signature?”
“No.”
“Why did he borrow the money?”
Diane was quiet.
“Ryan had a problem.”
“What problem?”
“You already know.”
“Gambling?”
“Yes.”
I sat down.
“How long?”
“Years.”
My throat closed.
“You knew for years?”
“He had stopped.”
“When?”
“Before he married you.”
“That’s a lie.”
“I believed he had stopped.”
“He has lost tens of thousands of dollars in the last two years.”
Diane began crying.
It should have made me softer.
It didn’t.
“You let me marry him without telling me?”
“It wasn’t my story to tell.”
“It became my story when he gambled our savings.”
“I begged him to get help.”
“When?”
“All the time.”
“He told me you two barely spoke recently.”
“Because every conversation became a fight about money.”
I pressed my fingers to my forehead.
“Why Thomas?”
“Ryan got himself into debt with people he should never have borrowed from.”
“What people?”
“I don’t know.”
“Diane.”
“I really don’t.”
Her voice trembled.
“So I called Thomas.”
I froze.
“You called him?”
“Yes.”
“I thought you hated him.”
“I do.”
“Then why?”
“Because Ryan was desperate.”
Everything I believed about this family was collapsing.
Diane continued.
“Thomas agreed to help on one condition. Ryan had to admit the gambling to you and start treatment.”
“He didn’t.”
“I know.”
“So why did Thomas give him the money?”
“He didn’t give all of it at once.”
I looked at the agreement again.
“What do you mean?”
“He paid some debts directly.”
“And the rest?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did Thomas know about me?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know I was pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know Ryan forged my signature?”
“I don’t know.”
I stood.
“I want his number.”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you should stay away from him.”
“Why?”
“Thomas destroys people.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Your son is doing a decent job himself.”
“You don’t understand.”
“No, Diane. I don’t understand any of you because apparently your entire family communicates through lies.”
She went silent.
Then her voice changed.
“Ryan is his father’s son.”
The sentence was almost a whisper.
“What does that mean?”
“Thomas could make you believe he loved you while calculating exactly what you were worth to him.”
A chill moved through me.
“Sounds familiar.”
“Yes.”
That surprised me.
For the first time, Diane wasn’t defending Ryan.
She sounded afraid.
“Why did you warn me that Ryan is dangerous when cornered?”
Diane didn’t answer.
“Did he hurt you?”
“No.”
“Did Thomas?”
Silence.
I closed my eyes.
I understood.
Not everything.
Enough.
“You covered for Ryan because you thought protecting him would stop him from becoming his father.”
Diane began crying harder.
“I thought if I loved him enough—”
“You taught him consequences were optional.”
She stopped.
I immediately regretted how cruel it sounded.
But I didn’t take it back.
“I know,” she whispered.
Those two words changed something.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But maybe the first crack in the wall.
“Give me Thomas’s number.”
“I can’t.”
“Then my lawyer will find him.”
Diane exhaled.
“He already knows.”
My heart jumped.
“Knows what?”
“About the divorce.”
“How?”
“Ryan called him yesterday asking for more money.”
Of course.
“What did Thomas say?”
“He refused.”
“And?”
“Ryan threatened him.”
“With what?”
“I don’t know.”
Diane paused.
“Thomas is coming to Dallas tomorrow.”
The next morning, my doctor called with preliminary test results.
My bloodwork did not show evidence of an obvious toxic exposure.
Relief flooded me.
Then he added that without the old pills, they could not determine whether my medication had been replaced or altered.
The pharmacy records provided one clue.
A refill had been picked up under my name three weeks before my emergency C-section.
I never requested it.
Ryan picked it up.
The dosage listed was correct.
But there was something strange.
The pharmacy had also received a cancellation notice two days later.
Supposedly from my doctor.
Dr. Hale said his office never sent it.
My prescription history had been manipulated somehow.
Not enough to prove Ryan poisoned me.
Enough to make everything more suspicious.
Then Claire called.
“Hospital security identified the remote device that accessed your chart under Jessica’s login.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Whose was it?”
“We can’t definitively say who was physically using it.”
“Claire.”
“The device is registered to an internet connection at your home address.”
I stopped breathing.
Ryan had used Jessica’s login from our house.
My chart.
My ID.
My insurance.
Possibly information needed to create fake records.
All from the home where I slept beside him.
I called Rebecca.
She already had the information.
“There’s more,” she said.
My stomach twisted.
“There’s always more.”
“The emergency custody hearing has been moved up.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
“What?”
“Ryan’s attorney claims Noah may be discharged sooner than expected.”
“He won’t be.”
“I know. But they want a temporary order in place.”
My fear returned.
“Can he win?”
“We have strong evidence.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
Rebecca sighed.
“Family court is never something I promise outcomes on.”
I hated that.
She continued.
“But Ryan has a credibility problem.”
“He has fake medical records.”
“Yes.”
“And we are going to prove that.”
That afternoon, Jessica asked to meet me.
Rebecca said it might be useful only if she attended.
We met in a conference room at the hospital.
The second Jessica walked in, every muscle in my body tightened.
She looked terrible.
No makeup.
Hair tied back.
Eyes red.
For months, this woman had slept with my husband.
She had seen my pregnancy records.
She had sat in restaurants planning a future built on the wreckage of mine.
I wanted to hate her cleanly.
But nothing was clean anymore.
Jessica sat across from me.
“I’m sorry.”
I said nothing.
“I know that doesn’t mean anything.”
“It doesn’t.”
She nodded.
“I deserve that.”
“Yes.”
Rebecca placed a recorder on the table with everyone’s consent.
“Jessica, tell Emily what you told me.”
Jessica looked at her hands.
“Ryan told me your marriage had been over for years.”
I almost laughed.
“He said you were only together because of the pregnancy.”
“We tried for Noah for eighteen months.”
Her eyes lifted.
“I know that now.”
“You knew I existed.”
“Yes.”
“You knew I was pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“You still slept with him.”
“Yes.”
“Then don’t make him responsible for your choices.”
Jessica’s face crumpled.
“You’re right.”
That answer took some of my anger away.
I almost resented her for it.
She continued.
“He made everything sound like a rescue story. Like he was trapped. Like you controlled him.”
“Ryan told you I controlled him?”
“Yes.”
I laughed bitterly.
“He controlled our money.”
“I know.”
“He controlled what I knew.”
“I know.”
“He used you.”
Jessica’s eyes filled.
“I know.”
Silence filled the room.
Then she reached into her bag.
Rebecca immediately said, “What is that?”
“My old phone.”
Jessica placed it on the table.
“I didn’t erase everything.”
My heart began pounding.
“What’s on it?”
“Messages.”
“About me?”
“Yes.”
“About my medical records?”
“Yes.”
She looked directly at me.
“And one voice recording.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“What recording?”
Jessica swallowed.
“A conversation with Ryan from three months ago.”
“Why did you record him?”
“Because we were fighting, and he scared me.”
My skin went cold.
“What did he say?”
Jessica pushed the phone toward Rebecca.
“Play it.”
Rebecca opened the file.
Ryan’s voice filled the room.
Calm.
Cold.
Unmistakable.
“If Emily loses the baby, everything becomes easier.”
I stopped breathing.
Jessica’s recorded voice answered.
“What the hell does that mean?”
Ryan laughed.
“Relax. I’m not saying I’d do anything.”
May you like
Then came the sentence that would follow me into court the next morning.
“I’m just saying sometimes problems solve themselves.”
