Chapter 4
I thought Samuel had confused Daniel with someone else.
“He was never engaged before me.”
“That’s what he told you.”
“I met him when he was twenty-eight.”
“Yes.”
“And we dated almost two years before getting married.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Your father hired an investigator.”
I stared at the phone.
Michael’s eyebrows rose.
Mom looked away.
“You knew?” I asked her.
“Not everything.”
My voice shook.
“Did Dad investigate my husband behind my back?”
“He was worried.”
I almost became angry.
Then I remembered the forged deed sitting on Mom’s coffee table.
The fake loan.
The shattered glass.
My anger disappeared.
Samuel said, “Come to my office.”
“I’ll be there in an hour.”
“Bring someone you trust.”
I looked at Michael.
“I will.”
Samuel Greene’s office was downtown in an old brick building.
Michael came with me.
Ava stayed with Mom.
Samuel was in his seventies now.
Silver hair.
Dark suit.
Tired eyes.
The moment I walked into his office, he stood and held out his hand.
“You look like your father.”
That nearly broke me.
He led us into a conference room.
A thick file sat on the table.
My name was written across the front.
Samuel sat.
“Before I show you this, understand something. Your father had suspicions. Some were confirmed. Some were not.”
“Show me.”
He opened the folder.
The first photograph showed Daniel.
Younger.
Standing beside a woman I had never seen.
His arm was around her waist.
She wore an engagement ring.
My stomach twisted.
“Her name was Caroline Bishop,” Samuel said.
“When?”
“About three years before you met Daniel.”
I turned the page.
There were copies of property records.
Caroline had owned a small house inherited from her grandmother.
Daniel had moved in.
Sixteen months later, the property was sold.
Most of the proceeds had gone into a joint account.
Within six months, the account was almost empty.
“What happened to her?”
“They separated.”
“Where did the money go?”
Samuel looked at me.
“Much of it was transferred to Linda.”
I laughed once.
Not because it was funny.
Because my mind couldn’t accept it.
“So his mother did this before.”
“It appears she benefited.”
Michael leaned forward.
“Was it criminal?”
“Caroline never pursued charges.”
“Why?”
Samuel slid another paper toward me.
A police incident report.
Caroline had accused Daniel of threatening her.
Then she withdrew the complaint.
“She disappeared?”
“No. She moved to Oregon.”
“Can I talk to her?”
Samuel hesitated.
“I don’t know whether she’ll speak.”
“Try.”
He nodded.
Then he opened another folder.
“Your father confronted Daniel.”
My breath caught.
“What?”
“Privately.”
“When?”
“Six weeks before your father’s cancer diagnosis.”
“Daniel never told me.”
“I imagine he wouldn’t.”
“What happened?”
Samuel handed me handwritten notes.
Dad had written them after the meeting.
D confronted about C.B. Denied taking money. Became angry when asked about Linda. Said Rachel is his wife and what is hers is theirs.
I read the line twice.
My father had underlined the next sentence.
He believes marriage gives him entitlement to Rachel’s inheritance.
Michael cursed quietly.
I stared at the paper.
“Why didn’t Dad tell me?”
Samuel’s voice softened.
“He intended to.”
“Then why didn’t he?”
“Your miscarriage happened three days later.”
I looked away.
Daniel had been incredibly supportive after the miscarriage.
Or at least I had believed he was.
He held me while I cried.
Cooked meals.
Took time off work.
Slept beside me when nightmares woke me.
Now every memory felt contaminated.
“Did Daniel know Dad had these records?”
“No.”
“Does Linda?”
“I doubt it.”
Samuel closed the folder.
“The most important thing now is protecting your property and accounts.”
I nodded.
“I’ve frozen the loan.”
“Good. We’ll file a fraud notice with the county recorder and challenge anything submitted under the forged deed.”
“What about divorce?”
Michael looked at me.
I hadn’t planned to say it yet.
But once I heard the word in my own head, I knew.
There was no marriage left.
“I want one.”
Samuel nodded.
“I’m not a family attorney, but I’ll refer you to an excellent one.”
Before we left, his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
Then at me.
“Speak of the devil.”
“Who?”
“Daniel.”
My pulse jumped.
“Why is he calling you?”
Samuel answered on speaker.
“Samuel Greene.”
Daniel’s voice filled the room.
“Mr. Greene, this is Daniel Mercer.”
“I know.”
“I need to ask you something about Rachel’s father’s estate.”
Samuel’s eyes met mine.
“What would you like to know?”
“There’s confusion about the house.”
“What confusion?”
“My wife signed paperwork transferring it to my mother and now she’s pretending she didn’t.”
My hands curled into fists.
Samuel remained calm.
“I see.”
“We need copies of the original deed and any trust restrictions.”
“Why?”
“Because Rachel is unstable right now.”
Michael’s jaw clenched.
Daniel continued.
“She attacked my mother last night.”
Samuel looked at me.
I shook my head.
“She threw boiling soup in her face.”
It hadn’t been boiling.
It was barely warm by then.
“She also threatened me with a weapon.”
The cutting board.
I could hardly believe what I was hearing.
Samuel asked, “Have you spoken to the police?”
“Yes.”
“And what did they say?”
“That it’s being investigated.”
“Then you should cooperate.”
Daniel paused.
“I’m asking for documents.”
“I cannot give you confidential estate documents.”
“I’m her husband.”
“That doesn’t make you my client.”
Another silence.
Then Daniel said, “Her father told me years ago that the house would eventually become marital property.”
Samuel’s expression hardened.
“That is false.”
Daniel didn’t answer.
Samuel continued.
“In fact, Richard specifically structured the inheritance to prevent that.”
I saw fear in Daniel’s silence.
Then he said, “Rachel is manipulating you.”
“No.”
Samuel looked straight at me.
“I have known Rachel since she was a teenager.”
Daniel’s voice dropped.
“You need to stay out of this.”
Samuel smiled without humor.
“Your father-in-law specifically instructed me not to.”
The line went dead.
Michael exhaled.
“That was satisfying.”
I didn’t feel satisfied.
I felt scared.
Daniel was lying quickly now.
That meant he knew he was losing control.
And people like Daniel were most dangerous when control slipped away.
On our way home, I received a text.
Daniel.
We need to talk without lawyers and police involved.
I ignored it.
Another arrived.
Mom is willing to forgive you for attacking her.
I almost laughed.
Then:
If you keep doing this, Ava will suffer.
I stopped walking.
Michael saw my face.
“What?”
I showed him.
His expression changed.
“Save everything.”
“I am.”
Another message appeared.
You don’t want a custody fight.
My stomach dropped.
He knew exactly where to hit me.
Not the house.
Not money.
Ava.
Michael took my phone gently.
“Don’t reply.”
“I know.”
“You’re thinking about replying.”
“I want to tell him he’ll never take her.”
“Don’t give him anything.”
I nodded.
But fear spread through my chest.
That afternoon, the family attorney Samuel recommended called me.
Her name was Denise Parker.
She listened to the entire story.
Then she asked, “Has Daniel ever physically harmed Ava?”
“No.”
“Has he threatened her?”
“Not directly.”
“Any substance abuse?”
“No.”
“Any criminal history?”
“Not that I know.”
“All right.”
My heart sank.
“So he could get custody?”
“He could seek custody. That doesn’t mean he’ll get what he wants.”
“He’ll lie.”
“Then we document.”
I looked at Ava playing quietly with a puzzle across the room.
“He manipulated her into keeping secrets.”
“That matters.”
“He threw a glass at me in front of her.”
“That matters more.”
She told me to gather school records, medical records, communications, financial documents, police reports.
“Do not block him unless there is a protective order,” Denise said. “But keep communication written whenever possible.”
“What if he comes to the house?”
“Call police if you feel unsafe.”
I hung up.
Ten minutes later, my doorbell camera alerted me.
Someone stood on the porch.
Daniel.
I watched through the app.
He knocked.
Then again.
“Rachel!”
Ava heard his voice.
She froze.
I walked toward the door but didn’t open it.
“What do you want?”
“Talk to me.”
“Text me.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Leave.”
“Ava!”
My blood turned cold.
He shouted louder.
“Ava, Daddy’s here!”
She appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Mom?”
“Stay there.”
Daniel heard her.
“Baby, come open the door.”
“Stop,” I yelled.
“She’s my daughter!”
“She doesn’t need to be dragged into this.”
“You’re keeping her from me!”
“I’m asking you to leave the property.”
Then Linda stepped into view behind him.
She had been standing off-camera.
My stomach tightened.
Linda shouted through the door.
“You stole my house!”
I almost couldn’t believe it.
“You forged my signature!”
“You gave it to me!”
“No, I didn’t.”
“We have witnesses.”
“Fake witnesses.”
Daniel hit the door with his palm.
“Open it.”
I grabbed my phone to call police.
Then Ava screamed.
I spun around.
She was holding something.
A brown envelope.
“Mom.”
Her face was white.
“This was under my pillow.”
I ran upstairs.
Written across the envelope were four words.
TELL YOUR MOTHER TO STOP.
Inside was a photograph.
Ava walking out of school.
Taken from across the street.
May you like
On the back, someone had written:
Next time, she comes with us.
