Chapter 14 - THE FIRE AT THE LAKE
Marcus intended to destroy the cottage.
That was the prosecution’s theory.
He entered through the back window with two cans of gasoline, a lighter, and a duffel bag containing documents.
But my new alarm system alerted me.
I called police.
Deputies arrived before he lit anything.
Inside the duffel bag were original loan files.
Not copies.
Originals.
Including the forged guarantee.
Including emails printed from Andrew’s company account.
Including a handwritten instruction from Marcus:
Get C signature any way possible.
Andrew’s initials appeared beneath it.
A.P.
For twenty-four hours, it looked like Andrew had finally been caught ordering the forgery.
Then a handwriting expert examined the initials.
They were not Andrew’s.
They were Lorraine’s imitation.
The entire scheme had become a hall of mirrors where every liar had forged another liar.
Marcus eventually took a deal on financial-fraud charges and unlawful surveillance.
He also admitted taking Natalie’s phone after the crash scene was already active.
He claimed he went there after Lorraine called him.
That call placed Lorraine at the crash before emergency services arrived.
The district attorney upgraded the case against her.
I stopped following every legal update.
I had spent enough of my life inside their chaos.
My divorce moved faster than expected because Andrew stopped fighting.
The lender claim against my house was withdrawn after the forged guarantee was established.
Andrew’s legitimate marital share of the property was calculated.
My separate contribution was credited.
The waiver was enforced.
He walked away with far less than Lorraine had spent two years telling me belonged to him.
On the day we signed the final settlement, Andrew sat across from me.
“You’re keeping the house.”
“Yes.”
“The cottage too.”
“Yes.”
He smiled sadly.
“Mom is going to hate that.”
“Your mother’s opinion is no longer part of my life.”
He nodded.
“I should’ve done that years ago.”
“What?”
“Stopped making her opinion part of ours.”
I looked at him.
“That was never my job to teach you.”
“I know.”
For once, he did not ask me to comfort him.
He signed.
So did I.
Seven years became ink.
Outside, Rachel hugged me.
“You’re free.”
I looked at the courthouse steps.
“No.”
She frowned.
I smiled.
“I’m getting there.”
That evening, I drove to Canandaigua Lake alone.
The cottage smelled faintly of old wood and cold water.
I stood on the porch where Natalie had once stood in those photographs.
Daniel had given me permission to keep one picture of her.
Not with Andrew.
Alone.
She was laughing at something outside the frame.
I placed the photograph inside a drawer with the recorder.
Not as a monument to Andrew’s affair.
As a reminder that two women had been lied to by the same man in different ways.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Daniel.
Court date set for Lorraine.
I stared at it.
Then another message arrived.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
One sentence.
You still don’t know why Andrew chose you.
I felt the old fear return.
Then a second message appeared.
May you like
Ask him about your grandfather.
And suddenly the marriage I thought I had finished seemed to have one secret left.
