Chapter 2: The Documents
“What documents?””
Daniel’s voice cracked.
I ended the call.
Linda’s smug expression disappeared.
“What is he talking about?””
I ignored her.
Emma ran into my arms, sobbing against my side.
The movement sent another streak of pain across my burned skin, but I held her anyway.
“I want to go home,” she cried.
“We are, baby.””
Daniel stepped toward us.
“Sarah, wait.””
I backed away.
“Don’t touch me.””
His hands stopped in midair.
For the first time that night, everyone around the table looked uncomfortable.
Not because Linda had slapped me.
Not because I had been burned.
Because Daniel looked scared.
Linda noticed too.
“What documents?”” she demanded again.
Daniel turned toward her.
“Mom, stop.””
Her eyebrows lifted.
“Excuse me?””
“I said stop.””
It was almost funny.
Three years of marriage, and apparently the only thing powerful enough to make Daniel confront his mother was fear for himself.
I grabbed Emma’s coat from the hallway.
Melissa followed.
“You’re seriously leaving over one slap?””
I turned.
“One?””
Melissa rolled her eyes.
“Oh, please. Mom lost her temper. Families fight.””
“Does your mother hit you?””
Her mouth closed.
“That’s what I thought.””
Linda appeared behind her.
“You came into my house and embarrassed me.””
I actually laughed.
The sound surprised even me.
“You slapped me in front of my daughter.””
“You challenged me.””
“I told you not to insult a four-year-old.””
“She’s my granddaughter.””
“She is not your property.””
Linda stepped closer.
“Neither is Daniel.””
There it was.
The sentence that explained everything.
I looked toward my husband.
He stood beside the dining table, his wedding ring still buried in his mashed potatoes.
“No,” I said quietly.
“Apparently he’s yours.””
I helped Emma into her coat.
Daniel hurried toward me.
“Sarah, please. Let’s go upstairs and talk.””
“No.””
“Not in front of everyone.””
“You had plenty of chances to speak in front of everyone.””
His jaw tightened.
“I was trying to keep things from escalating.””
I looked down at my soaked sweater.
“Excellent work.””
“Sarah—”
“What documents?””
Linda’s voice sliced between us again.
Daniel closed his eyes.
I realized then that he knew.
Maybe not exactly what was in the trunk.
But he knew enough.
My father, Robert Mitchell, had never trusted Daniel.
Not because Daniel came from money.
Dad had money too, although almost nobody in Daniel’s family understood how much.
My father dressed simply, drove an eight-year-old truck, and still repaired his own kitchen cabinets.
Linda had once called him “a glorified handyman.””
She didn’t know he had founded a commercial construction company thirty years earlier.
She didn’t know he had sold most of it the previous spring.
And she definitely didn’t know why I had driven to his office two days before Christmas.
Daniel stared at me.
“You went through with it?””
I didn’t answer.
Linda looked between us.
“Went through with what?””
Daniel lowered his voice.
“Sarah, whatever you signed, we can fix it.””
“Fix what?””
His mother was practically shouting now.
I picked up Emma.
Daniel blocked the front door.
That was when my fear returned.
Not because he threatened me.
Because I recognized desperation in his eyes.
“Move.””
“Just tell me what your father meant.””
“Daniel.””
“Sarah, please.””
“Move away from the door.””
He hesitated.
Then Emma buried her face against my neck and whispered loudly enough for everyone to hear.
“Daddy, let Mommy go.””
Daniel stepped aside.
The shame on his face came too late.
I opened the door.
Cold air hit my burned skin.
Then headlights swept across the driveway.
A black SUV pulled in behind our car.
My father couldn’t possibly have arrived that quickly.
He lived nearly forty minutes away.
The driver’s door opened.
A woman stepped out.
Long charcoal coat.
Leather briefcase.
I recognized her immediately.
So did Daniel.
His face drained of color.
“Claire?””
Linda frowned.
“Who is that?””
Claire Bennett walked toward the porch.
She was my father’s attorney.
And mine.
“Sarah,” she said, looking at my soaked sweater and reddened face.
“Your father called me. Are you safe?””
“Yes.””
Her eyes moved to Daniel.
“Good evening, Mr. Whitmore.””
Daniel looked as though he had forgotten how to breathe.
Linda pushed past him.
“What is going on?””
Claire opened her briefcase.
“I believe your son can explain.””
She removed a thick envelope.
Daniel stared at it.
“No.””
Claire’s expression remained calm.
“Daniel, you were notified two weeks ago.””
Linda spun toward him.
“Notified about what?””
I looked at the man I had married.
“Tell her.””
Daniel said nothing.
So Claire did.
“The house Sarah and Daniel live in is owned by a trust established solely for Sarah and Emma.””
Linda blinked.
“That’s impossible.””
Claire continued.
“The trust also owns the commercial property supporting Daniel’s business.””
The room went silent.
Linda looked at her son.
“You told me those properties were yours.””
Daniel’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
Claire handed him the envelope.
“Not anymore.””
His fingers shook as he took it.
Then Claire looked at me.
“Sarah, there’s one more thing.””
Her tone changed.
“What?””
She glanced toward Emma.
“We found the transfer Daniel attempted yesterday.””
My heart stopped.
“What transfer?””
May you like
Claire slowly removed another document.
“He tried to move money out of Emma’s trust.””
