Chapter 2: The Woman Who Was Supposed to Inherit My Life
The room felt smaller.
The candles continued burning, their flames dancing above the expensive dinner nobody was eating.
I stared at the insurance application.
"Marcus, explain this.""
He reached for the document.
Daniel pulled it away.
"Don't touch it.""
Marcus glared at him.
"This has nothing to do with you.""
Daniel laughed bitterly.
"Your mistress is my wife. Your wife's money is being transferred to her. And somehow I'm the one who has nothing to do with it?""
Vanessa began crying.
"Daniel, I swear I didn't know what he was doing.""
He turned toward her.
"Really? Then why did you receive fourteen separate transfers from Lauren's account?""
Vanessa's mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
I picked up the bank statement.
One transfer was dated six months earlier.
Another was dated four months earlier.
The most recent had happened just nine days ago.
"Marcus," I said, "you told me we were struggling financially.""
He rubbed his jaw.
"We were making investments.""
"You told me we couldn't afford to replace the air conditioner.""
"Lauren, please.""
"You told me my mother's inheritance was almost gone.""
He slammed his palm against the table.
"Because I was trying to protect you!""
The sudden noise made me flinch.
Daniel stepped forward.
"Watch your tone.""
Marcus pointed at him.
"Stay out of my house!""
I looked at the man who had shared my bed for eight years.
"How long?""
He looked away.
"How long have you been sleeping with her?""
Vanessa wiped her cheeks.
"Since last spring.""
I felt the answer land somewhere beneath my ribs.
Last spring.
That was when Marcus had started bringing me flowers every Friday.
That was when he began insisting I take my evening supplements.
That was when he started telling me I looked tired.
I'd thought he was being attentive.
Now every memory seemed to have another meaning.
Daniel removed a second envelope from inside his jacket.
"There's more.""
Marcus went pale.
"Daniel, don't.""
Daniel ignored him.
He placed several printed photographs on the table.
The first showed Marcus and Vanessa entering a bank.
The second showed them leaving a medical office.
The third showed a familiar face standing beside them.
My younger sister.
Emily.
I grabbed the photograph.
"Why is Emily with you?""
Daniel looked at me carefully.
"Because she's been involved longer than you realize.""
I shook my head.
"No. Emily recommended my doctor. She said he was one of the best physicians in Atlanta.""
"What's his name?"" Daniel asked.
"Dr. Richard Collins.""
Daniel exchanged a glance with me.
"That's the same doctor in these photographs.""
My stomach turned.
"Why would my sister be meeting with my doctor?""
Marcus moved toward the photographs.
"Enough. This has gone too far.""
I stepped between him and the table.
"Don't you dare touch anything.""
He stared at me.
For the first time that evening, I saw uncertainty in his eyes.
Daniel continued.
"Lauren, I started investigating after Vanessa told me she was working late several nights a week. Her explanations didn't match her bank activity.""
He pulled out his phone.
"I hired an investigator. That's how I found Marcus.""
He showed me a photograph of the two men shaking hands outside a restaurant.
Then another.
Marcus was handing Dr. Collins a thick white envelope.
"When was this taken?"" I asked.
"Four months ago.""
I looked at Marcus.
"What were you paying my doctor for?""
He said nothing.
Vanessa suddenly stood.
"Marcus, you told me she would never find out!""
His head snapped toward her.
"Shut your mouth.""
Daniel's expression changed.
"Interesting choice of words.""
Vanessa covered her face.
I felt dizzy.
Not the familiar dizziness I'd experienced over the past six months.
Something deeper.
Something worse.
"Vanessa," I said, "what did he tell you?""
She looked at me through her fingers.
"He said you were getting worse.""
"Worse how?""
"He said your memory was deteriorating. That you were becoming confused. That eventually you wouldn't be able to manage your finances.""
I stared at her.
"I'm thirty-six years old.""
"I know.""
"Then why would you believe that?""
Vanessa looked toward Marcus.
"He said your mother had a history of neurological problems. He said you were showing the same symptoms.""
My mother's death flashed through my mind.
She'd died suddenly from a stroke when I was twenty-seven.
But she'd never suffered from dementia.
I turned toward my husband.
"Did you tell people I was mentally incompetent?""
Marcus exhaled sharply.
"Lauren, you need to calm down.""
"No. Answer me.""
He lowered his voice.
"You're making this worse.""
Daniel reached into the envelope again.
He removed a document bearing the logo of the county probate court.
It was an application concerning my mother's estate.
The house I had inherited.
The house where Marcus and I lived.
The house my mother had spent thirty years paying for.
I recognized the language immediately.
A request to appoint a legal guardian over my financial and medical affairs.
My sister's name appeared on the second page.
Emily Mitchell.
I gripped the edge of the table.
"Why is my sister listed as my guardian?""
Daniel looked at me.
"Because someone has been trying to convince the court that you can't make decisions for yourself.""
I turned toward Marcus.
His silence was more frightening than any confession.
Then my phone rang.
The screen displayed a number I recognized.
Dr. Collins's medical office.
I answered.
"Hello?""
A woman spoke quickly.
"Mrs. Mitchell? This is Sarah from Dr.
Collins's office. I need you to listen very carefully.""
I looked at the documents.
"What's happening?""
Her voice dropped.
"We discovered an unauthorized change to your prescription.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"What change?""
"Please don't take another dose of the medication your husband has been giving you.""
I glanced at Marcus.
He was staring at me.
The receptionist continued.
"And Mrs. Mitchell, there's something else. Your husband scheduled a procedure for you tomorrow morning.""
"What procedure?""
A pause.
May you like
Then she whispered:
"Your sister signed the consent form.""
