Chapter 7 - THE HOUSE ACROSS THE STREET
June had a copy of the document by afternoon. It purported to give Vivian broad authority over Mom's finances and real estate. The notarization was suspicious, and Mom insisted she'd never knowingly granted any such power.
"We can challenge this," June said. "First we protect your mother's accounts and put the institutions on notice. And she needs independent counsel."
Mom straightened in her chair. "I want to tell them myself."
"You will," I promised.
At two o'clock, a patrol officer rang the estate's intercom. Ryan had reported that I'd taken our children without permission and was hiding them at an unknown address.
"I'm their mother," I told the officer, meeting her at the gate. "They are safe. My attorney is addressing temporary parenting orders today."
The officer listened, took notes, and explained that custody arrangements would be handled through family court absent immediate danger. I gave her the medical documentation and contact information for the investigators who would receive Mom's complaint.
Ryan called while she was leaving.
"You put the police on me?" he snarled.
"You called them, Ryan."
"My mother did nothing wrong. You know how dramatic yours gets."
"An independent physician photographed her injuries."
Silence.
Then he changed tactics. "Listen. I made a mistake. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you."
"A safe arrangement for the kids. And accountability."
"You really think a judge will believe you? You're gone all the time. I do the actual parenting."
"Then you won't mind providing the records."
He laughed, but it sounded brittle. "I have photographs too, Claire. You might want to check your inbox."
The email arrived thirty seconds later. Its subject line read: THE KIND OF MOTHER YOU REALLY ARE.
May you like
Attached was a photograph of Emma crying beside an overflowing laundry basket. Across the image, Ryan had written one sentence:
SHE LEFT THEM AGAIN.
