Chương 9
Naomi looked at her.
“Would you?”
The question hurt because, again, it was reasonable.
Elara scrolled to the signature page.
There it was.
Her name.
Her copied signature.
Dated six months earlier.
This time there was no notary.
Below the signatures, Mark had certified that all information was accurate.
Elara whispered, “Why would he do this?”
Naomi did not answer.
A knock came at the door.
Both women jumped.
A hospital social worker entered, introduced herself as Dana, and apologized for interrupting.
She was carrying a folder.
“I was asked to speak with you about discharge planning.”
Elara looked at the clock.
“Discharge?”
“Not today.”
Dana smiled.
“Probably tomorrow or the following day, depending on your labs and what your doctor decides.”
Elara had not considered leaving.
The hospital had felt temporary, but safe.
Leaving meant choosing a place where Mark could find her.
“Can I go to my sister’s?”
Dana looked at Naomi.
“If that’s where you feel safe.”
“Yes.”
Elara answered immediately.
Naomi’s expression softened.
Dana sat down.
“We’ll need to discuss your newborn, follow-up appointments, transportation, medications, and whether there are concerns about anyone having access to you.”
“My husband.”
Dana nodded as if she had expected that.
“Do you want your discharge location kept private?”
Elara looked at Naomi.
Naomi did not speak.
“Yes.”
“Then we can document that preference.”
Dana opened the folder.
“There’s also a complication.”
Elara’s stomach tightened.
“What complication?”
“Your husband contacted patient services about being listed as your emergency contact.”
“He already is.”
“He asked for information about your discharge.”
Elara stared.
“Did they give it to him?”
“No.”
Dana’s expression became careful.
“But he also told them he intends to return home with the baby once you’re discharged.”
Naomi stood.
“No.”
Dana remained calm.
“I’m not saying he can.”
Elara felt her pulse in her throat.
“I need a lawyer.”
Naomi reached for her phone.
This time Elara did not stop her.
Dana handed Elara a card.
“We have a legal-aid referral list, though given the financial issues, you may want independent counsel who can handle both family and property concerns.”
Naomi was already searching.
Elara looked back at the fake financial statement.
Mark had not merely ignored her while she was bleeding.
He had been building a version of their life on paper that she had never seen.
A richer wife.
More assets.
More income.
More collateral.
A marriage translated into numbers she had not approved.
Her inbox suddenly felt like a room Mark had been living in behind the walls.
Naomi turned the screen of her phone toward her.
“I found someone.”
Elara read the name.
Rebecca Shaw.
Family law and complex marital assets.
Former prosecutor.
Twenty-three years in practice.
The consultation fee made Elara wince.
Naomi saw it.
“I’ll pay.”
“No.”
“Elara.”
“No.”
Elara opened her banking app.
Her personal checking balance was not six thousand dollars.
It was eight hundred and forty-three.
For several seconds she assumed she had opened the wrong account.
Then she saw the transfer.
Five thousand dollars moved out two days before Leo was born.
Recipient: VCH OPERATING.
Mark’s company.
Naomi read it over her shoulder.
“He took your maternity money.”
Elara stared at the date.
Mark had kissed her that night while assembling Leo’s bassinet.
He had complained about one missing screw.
He had ordered pizza.
He had asked whether she thought Leo would inherit his eyes.
And sometime that same day, he had emptied most of the only account Elara believed was hers.
She closed the banking app.
“Call Rebecca Shaw.”
Naomi did.
Elara kept one hand on the laptop and the other resting beside Leo’s bassinet.
For the first time, protecting herself no longer felt like punishing Mark.
It felt like something she should have learned to do years ago.
Rebecca Shaw called back eleven minutes later, and her first question was not whether Elara wanted a divorce.
“Are you physically safe right now?”
“Yes.”
“Is your son with you?”
“Yes.”
“Does your husband know where you will be after discharge?”
“Not yet.”
“Keep it that way.”
Rebecca’s voice was low and brisk, without the soft sympathy Elara had begun to dread from strangers.
She sounded like someone clearing dishes before a storm.
Naomi put the call on speaker and sat beside the window.
Elara explained the hospital restriction, the police interviews, the forged lien, the missing money, and Mark’s demand to take Leo home.
Rebecca interrupted only twice.
The first time was to ask whether Mark had access to Elara’s email.
The second was to ask whether Elara had ever given him permission to sign her name.
“No.”
“Not even casually?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Elara almost laughed.
Nothing about the situation felt good.
Rebecca continued.
“I need you to change the password to your primary email before this call ends.”
Elara opened the settings page.
Her fingers moved slowly.
“Then banking, cloud storage, your phone account, tax software if you use any, retirement accounts, and any platform where documents might be stored.”
Naomi said, “He knows all her passwords.”
“I assumed.”
Elara glanced at her sister.
“I didn’t say all.”
Naomi looked back.
“You used the same password for Netflix and your bank.”
“That was three years ago.”
“You added an exclamation point.”
Rebecca cleared her throat.
“Ladies.”
Naomi mouthed sorry.
Elara changed the email password.
Rebecca asked whether two-factor authentication went to Elara’s own phone number.
“Yes.”
“Good.”
Then came another question.
“Whose name is on the phone plan?”
Elara stopped.
“Mark’s.”
Rebecca sighed.
“Then we solve that today.”
The phrase stayed with Elara.
We solve that today.
Not we fix everything.
Not we destroy him.
Just one problem, today.
Rebecca asked for screenshots of the account transfer and the Harrow Bridge email.
She told Elara not to confront Mark about the documents.
She told her not to delete anything, even messages that made her ashamed or angry.
She told Naomi not to post online.
Naomi said, “I haven’t.”
May you like
Rebecca replied, “I didn’t ask if you had.”
Naomi looked offended.
