Chapter 4 - THE FIRE
I grabbed the brass tongs and pulled the paper from the flames.
The top edge was black.
The bottom half survived.
Andrew’s signature was still visible.
So was Marcus Bell’s.
Lorraine shoved past me.
“You have become insane.”
I took another photograph.
“No. I’ve become organized.”
Andrew rubbed both hands over his face.
“Mom, go upstairs.”
“This woman is trying to steal your home.”
I laughed.
“My home.”
He looked at me.
“Claire, stop.”
“Stop what? Finding evidence?”
Daniel stood in the living room doorway.
“You need a lawyer.”
Andrew snapped, “You need to leave.”
Daniel’s eyes hardened.
“You want me gone because Natalie gave me copies.”
Andrew froze.
I turned.
“Copies of what?”
Daniel pulled a second envelope from inside his jacket.
“Everything.”
Lorraine sank into a chair.
For the next hour, my birthday became an audit.
Natalie had copied emails, invoices, bank statements, and photos.
Andrew and Marcus had been trying to form a small property-development company.
They had debt.
A lot of it.
They had borrowed privately.
They had promised lenders that an equity line against our house would fund their next purchase.
Except I had refused to sign.
So Andrew began looking for another way.
One email to Marcus read:
If Claire files separate property on the house, we’re dead.
Marcus replied:
Then make sure she doesn’t.
Another:
Your mother says she can get the original waiver.
My eyes lifted toward Lorraine.
She said nothing.
“You searched my files.”
“I cleaned this house.”
“You stole from me.”
“I protected my son.”
Andrew said, “Mom.”
“No,” Lorraine snapped. “You let her talk to us like criminals.”
Daniel muttered, “Interesting choice of word.”
Andrew turned on him.
“You don’t know anything.”
“I know my sister is dead.”
The room went still.
Andrew’s anger disappeared.
“What are you implying?”
Daniel stepped forward.
“She called me the night before the crash.”
Andrew’s face tightened.
“She said she was done with you.”
“Daniel,” I said carefully, “what did she tell you?”
“She said Andrew had lied about everything. His marriage. The business. The cottage. She said Marcus wanted some documents back.”
Andrew shook his head.
“This is fantasy.”
Daniel pulled out his phone.
“I have her voicemail.”
He pressed play.
Natalie’s frightened voice filled my living room.
Danny, if I don’t call tomorrow, go to the box. Don’t trust Andrew. Marcus is worse. Lorraine knows more than she pretends. And Claire—
The recording crackled.
Then Natalie said:
Claire owns the one thing they need.
The message ended.
I looked at Andrew.
“What do you need?”
His jaw worked.
Nothing came out.
Then my work phone rang.
My supervisor.
I almost ignored it.
Instead I answered.
“Claire, I’m sorry to bother you. We had a man come into the clinic asking for your personnel file.”
My stomach dropped.
“Who?”
“He said he was your husband.”
Andrew’s face changed.
My supervisor continued.
“He wanted a copy of your signature.”
I stared at Andrew.
“Why would my husband need a sample of my signature?”
Andrew whispered, “Claire…”
And suddenly I understood.
May you like
The equity line did not require me to change my mind.
It only required someone to make the bank believe I had.
