Chương 6
"Two months ago, Brent asked me for money."
I frowned.
"What?"
"He said he was going through a difficult period."
"What kind of money?"
"Thirty thousand dollars."
I sat up straighter.
"Did you give it to him?"
"No."
"Why?"
"Because I asked why."
"And?"
"He got angry."
That detail mattered.
Not because it proved anything.
Because it fit a pattern I had spent years ignoring.
"What did he say?"
Diane hesitated.
"He said I was treating him like a child."
I looked at Molly.
She was watching my face carefully.
"Did you know what the money was for?"
"No."
"Did you ask?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"He said it was none of my business."
I looked at the phone.
The same phrase.
Different person.
Different situation.
Same wall.
"Diane."
"Yes."
"Why didn't you tell me?"
"Because I thought he would fix it."
The answer was almost a whisper.
"And because I was afraid if I admitted there was a problem, I would have to admit I helped create one."
Nobody spoke.
The honesty was uncomfortable.
But it was real.
I walked into the living room while keeping the phone pressed to my ear.
Molly followed silently.
"What is the money for?" I asked.
"I don't know."
"Do you know where he got it?"
"No."
"Did he ask anyone else?"
"I don't know."
I stopped near the window.
Outside, the afternoon was gray and quiet.
A man across the street was carrying groceries into his house.
A teenager rode a bike past the sidewalk.
A woman walked a golden retriever that kept stopping to sniff every tree.
Normal life.
Again.
Always continuing.
"Diane," I said, "does Brent know you called me?"
"No."
"Will he?"
"I don't know."
That was the most honest answer she had given me.
"I need to tell you something else."
I waited.
"Yesterday, before he changed the security code, he called the house insurance company."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"He asked questions about adding his name to certain records."
"Adding his name?"
"Yes."
"Did he?"
"No."
"Why are you telling me this now?"
"Because I think he believed if he acted quickly enough, everyone would accept that the house was already his."
The sentence settled heavily.
Not because it surprised me.
Because it confirmed something I had not wanted to believe.
This had not been an emotional reaction.
It had been preparation.
"Jennifer needs to know," Molly said quietly.
Diane heard her.
"Is Molly there?"
"Yes."
"She hates me."
Molly looked at the phone.
"I don't hate you."
The answer surprised both of us.
Molly stepped closer.
"I don't trust you."
A pause.
"Fair enough."
"But I don't hate you."
Diane's voice softened.
"Thank you."
Molly looked uncomfortable receiving gratitude from someone she had spent years criticizing.
"Tessa needs everything you know."
"I know."
"Not later."
"I know."
"Now."
Diane did not argue.
"What do you have?"
"Emails."
"Between who?"
"Brent and me."
I felt my heartbeat change.
"About what?"
"About the house."
The room went completely still.
"What did he say?"
Diane hesitated.
Then she whispered:
"He said once the baby arrived, you would finally understand that the house needed to become a family decision."
I gripped the phone tighter.
"And what did you say?"
"I told him it was your house."
A pause.
"Then he said something I didn't understand at the time."
"What?"
Diane's voice became barely audible.
"He said, 'She won't fight me once everyone knows she's not being reasonable.'"
The words sat there.
Cold.
Calculated.
I looked at Molly.
For the first time all day, she looked worried.
Not angry.
Worried.
Because this was no longer just a marriage falling apart.
This was someone trying to control the story of why it fell apart.
My phone buzzed.
Jennifer.
A message appeared.
I opened it.
Tessa, we received a new filing notice.
Brent is attempting to claim an interest in the property.
I read the sentence twice.
Then I looked back at Diane's call.
"He's already doing it," I whispered.
"What?" Diane asked.
I stared at the screen.
"The thing you said he was afraid of."
"What?"
I swallowed.
"He is trying to make the house prove that he belongs."
And this time, I knew I could not wait for him to realize what he had done.
The next morning, I woke up before Ivy cried.
For a few seconds, I forgot where I was.
The room was dark.
The ceiling above me was unfamiliar.
The sound of Molly's old house settling around us felt strange.
Then I heard my daughter breathing beside me, and everything returned.
The locked door.
The changed code.
The messages.
The conversation with Diane.
The life I thought I was living had shifted while I was still recovering from giving birth.
I picked up my phone before getting out of bed.
There were three emails from Jennifer.
The first contained documents.
The second contained a warning.
The third contained something that made me sit completely still.
Brent had hired an attorney.
Not a family lawyer.
A property attorney.
I stared at the name attached to the email.
It was not surprising.
It was not even unexpected.
But seeing it written down made the situation feel more permanent.
This was no longer a fight between two exhausted people who had hurt each other.
This was a legal battle.
And legal battles had a way of turning emotions into evidence.
I got dressed quietly so I would not wake Ivy.
When I walked into the kitchen, Molly was already there.
She had coffee in one hand and her laptop open in front of her.
"You look terrible," she said.
"Good morning to you too."
She pushed a mug toward me.
"I mean you look like someone who hasn't slept."
"I haven't."
"Exactly."
I sat down.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then Molly turned her laptop around.
"Jennifer forwarded me the documents."
I looked at the screen.
"You read them?"
"I was awake."
May you like
"You don't sleep."
"Not when my sister's husband is trying to steal her house."
