Chapter 3 - THE SIGNATURE
His name was Marcus Bell.
Andrew’s regional manager.
He had also been the witness on a statement Andrew signed four years earlier when my inheritance paid off the second mortgage on our house.
The statement was simple.
In exchange for using my separate funds, Andrew waived any claim to the amount I contributed if the marriage ended.
At the time, he kissed me and said paperwork could never matter between us.
Now Marcus was reflected in a photograph taken at my cottage with Andrew’s mistress.
I plugged the flash drive into my laptop.
Lorraine hovered near the doorway.
“You have no right.”
I stared at her.
“To open a file someone gave me?”
“To humiliate my son.”
“He seems to have handled that himself.”
Daniel stayed near the front door.
The drive contained folders.
PHOTOS.
MESSAGES.
BANK.
COTTAGE.
I clicked MESSAGES.
Screenshots appeared.
Andrew to Natalie:
When Claire signs the equity line, we’ll finally have enough.
Natalie:
Does she know what it’s for?
Andrew:
She thinks it’s for renovations.
My mouth went dry.
I had refused that equity line three months earlier.
Andrew had sulked for a week.
I opened BANK.
There were transfers from an account I did not recognize.
Money moving from Andrew to Natalie.
Money moving from Natalie to Marcus.
Then one document titled PARKER DEVELOPMENT GROUP.
Daniel stepped closer.
“My sister thought they were buying properties.”
“Using what money?”
“She didn’t understand until late.”
Lorraine suddenly rushed forward and slammed the laptop shut.
“That is enough.”
I stood so quickly the chair scraped backward.
“Touch my computer again and you leave now.”
“You are tearing apart seven years over some dead woman’s lies.”
Daniel’s face changed.
“Say that again.”
I raised one hand.
“Daniel.”
He stopped.
Lorraine looked at him with contempt.
“She chased a married man.”
Daniel’s voice was low.
“Your son told her he was separated.”
I looked at Lorraine.
She did not deny it.
That hurt more than I expected.
“You met her.”
“I met many of Andrew’s colleagues.”
“She wasn’t his colleague.”
Lorraine’s lips tightened.
“Men make mistakes.”
“A six-month affair is not a wrong turn at a gas station.”
The door opened.
Andrew walked in.
He was not supposed to be home until noon.
It was 8:17.
He looked at Daniel.
Then the envelope.
Then the laptop.
His face went flat.
“Get out of my house.”
Daniel replied, “Ask your wife whose house it is.”
Andrew looked at me.
“What did you tell him?”
“The truth.”
He walked toward me.
I did not move.
His eyes dropped to the green folder.
And for the first time that morning, he looked scared.
“Claire.”
“No.”
“Give me the folder.”
“Why?”
“Because you don’t understand those documents.”
“I understand my own deed.”
His expression sharpened.
“You think that piece of paper means you can take everything?”
“I think the law and the actual payments might matter.”
Lorraine stepped beside him.
“Tell her, Andrew.”
He shot his mother a warning look.
Too late.
I caught it.
“Tell me what?”
Nobody answered.
I opened the green folder.
The signed waiver was gone.
I knew exactly where I had placed it.
Andrew stared at me.
Lorraine stared at the floor.
Then Daniel quietly said, “Maybe you should check the fireplace.”
A thin ribbon of smoke was rising from the living room.
I ran.
May you like
Inside the fireplace, one corner of a legal document was already burning.
And Lorraine was holding the matchbox.
