Chapter 1 - The House Belongs To Emily
Nathan shoved his chair back so hard it struck the wall.
“What did you just say?”
Charles didn’t repeat himself. He slid the first document across the ruined Thanksgiving table, straight through the soup dripping from the linen.
My burned hand throbbed against my chest. I could still feel the shape of Victoria’s palm on my cheek.
Nathan snatched the page.
His eyes moved once across the heading.
Then again.
“No.”
Victoria leaned over his shoulder. “Charles, what have you done?”
Charles looked at me instead of her.
“I protected what was left.”
I stared at him. “Protected it from who?”
His jaw flexed.
Nathan slapped the document down. “This is insane. She got to you.”
I actually laughed.
It came out broken.
“I didn’t even know this existed.”
“She’s lying.” Nathan pointed at me. “She has been poisoning you against us for months.”
My father-in-law’s eyes narrowed.
“Interesting choice of word.”
Nathan’s finger dropped.
Victoria stepped between them. “Nobody is doing this tonight. Emily is emotional. She’s pregnant. She just announced she’s leaving her husband in front of the whole family.”
“You slapped her,” Charles said.
Victoria’s chin lifted. “She insulted me in my own home.”
Charles picked up the deed.
“Your home?”
He tapped the page.
“Three months ago, I transferred this property into the Hale Family Protection Trust. Emily is the beneficiary.”
A fork hit a plate somewhere behind me.
Nathan’s cousin stopped filming with his phone.
Even Victoria looked smaller.
I swallowed. “Why me?”
Charles pulled out another sheet.
“Because somebody tried to borrow against this house without my permission.”
Nathan’s face went still.
Charles saw it.
So did I.
He placed the application beside the deed.
“Eight hundred thousand dollars against a property with no mortgage.”
Nathan scoffed. “You think that was me?”
“The application came from your private email account.”
“My email was hacked.”
“Convenient.”
Victoria reached toward my shoulder. “Emily, sit down before you hurt the baby.”
I stepped away.
Her hand changed direction.
Toward my handbag on the chair.
I caught the strap first.
“What are you doing?”
She blinked. “Your burn cream is in there.”
“No, it isn’t.”
Her eyes dropped toward the side pocket.
The pocket where I kept my prenatal vitamins.
A tiny pressure started behind my ribs.
Nathan moved between us.
“Can everyone stop acting like Mom is a criminal?”
Charles ignored him and pulled more papers from the envelope.
Each page landed with a dry slap.
Credit agreement.
Investment authorization.
Private loan.
I caught my name at the bottom of every page.
EMILY HALE.
My own signature sat underneath.
My knees weakened.
“What is this?”
Nathan’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
I lifted the first document.
Nine hundred fifty thousand dollars.
I had never borrowed nine hundred fifty thousand dollars in my life.
The signature looked perfect.
The loop on the E.
The short tail on the y.
Even the stupid little upward slash I had used since high school.
“Nathan.”
He rubbed his jaw.
“You sign a lot of things. Maybe you forgot.”
I looked at him.
“Try again.”
His eyes hardened.
“You’ve been under stress for months.”
Charles slowly stood.
“Don’t.”
Nathan turned on him. “Don’t what?”
“Don’t start building the story in front of me.”
The room went quiet again.
Charles selected another page.
“This loan was electronically executed on August fourteenth at 10:16 a.m.”
I knew that date.
My fingers went cold around the paper.
“I was in the emergency room.”
Nathan looked at me.
I could see the memory hit him.
I had collapsed in the grocery store from dehydration.
He had sat beside my hospital bed until noon.
Charles nodded.
“I checked.”
I turned the page.
A notarization stamp sat beneath my forged signature.
I knew the name.
Linda Mercer.
Victoria’s closest friend for twenty years.
Victoria grabbed her wineglass.
It rattled against her teeth.
Nathan saw me watching her and snapped, “This proves nothing.”
Charles reached into the envelope one more time.
“This proves more.”
He placed a final document in front of me.
I read the title.
DURABLE MEDICAL AND FINANCIAL POWER OF ATTORNEY.
My ears filled with the sound of my own pulse.
The document gave Nathan control of my bank accounts, my inherited property, my medical decisions, everything, if two physicians decided I could not make decisions for myself.
I looked at the filing date.
Three weeks ago.
Nathan whispered my name.
I raised my eyes.
May you like
Charles put both hands on the table.
“That isn’t the only document Nathan signed in your name.”
