Chapter 3 - GAVIN MAKES HIS FIRST MOVE
Evelyn would not let me watch the recording in her office.
At first, that irritated me.
Then she explained why.
“The employee did not send the file to us.”
“She sent notice that it exists.”
“Why?”
“Because she is frightened.”
That word cut through my anger.
“Of Gavin?”
“Of losing her job.”
Evelyn tapped the email.
“She says Mr. Prescott's chief of staff called everyone who remained on the meeting and instructed them to delete any recording, screenshot, message, or personal note about what they saw.”
I stared at her.
“He's already trying to erase it.”
“He is trying to control evidence.”
“Is that illegal?”
“Not necessarily by itself.”
Evelyn's expression stayed calm.
“But it is stupid.”
I almost smiled.
She gave me a yellow legal pad.
“Write down everything you remember from last night.”
“Every word?”
“As close as you can.”
“Why?”
“Because memory becomes an argument the moment lawyers arrive.”
So I wrote.
I wrote about the laptop.
I wrote about the employee windows still visible on the screen.
I wrote about Camila sitting on Gavin's lap.
I wrote about the blouse.
I wrote about the necklace.
I wrote about the apartment.
I wrote down Gavin's exact answer when I asked how long.
Two years.
When I finished, Evelyn read my notes without reacting.
Then she slid another document toward me.
It was a list of steps.
Open a bank account in my name only.
Move personal documents to a secure location.
Copy Mia's medical and school records.
Do not remove money from joint accounts except ordinary expenses.
Do not destroy or alter anything.
Do not access Gavin's private devices or accounts.
Do not warn Gavin about the trust.
The list made everything feel brutally real.
Until that moment, part of me had still been living inside a single terrible evening.
Now I was looking at the first morning of a different life.
“Am I getting divorced?”
Evelyn looked at me over the top of her glasses.
“That is not a legal question.”
“I know.”
“Then I won't answer it for you.”
I appreciated her more for that.
She closed the folder.
“But I will tell you something your father told me.”
I waited.
“He said you were very good at seeing numbers and very bad at believing people you love can lie to you.”
The sentence hurt because it was true.
I left her office at 9:10.
By 9:22, my phone was ringing.
Gavin.
I answered this time.
“Where are you?”
No hello.
No good morning.
“I had an appointment.”
“With whom?”
“That isn't your concern.”
Silence.
I could almost hear him adjusting to the fact that I had answered without explaining myself.
“Nora, we agreed not to escalate this.”
“We agreed to nothing.”
“I need you home.”
“Why?”
“There are people coming over.”
“What people?”
“My attorney and someone from communications.”
I gripped the steering wheel.
“You invited a lawyer and a public relations person into our house?”
“I am protecting the family.”
“No.”
I turned onto Beacon Street.
“You are protecting your job.”
“They are the same thing.”
That answer told me more than he realized.
“I'll be home after I pick up Mia.”
“Nora, don't involve Mia in this.”
“I am picking our daughter up from school.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I rarely do anymore.”
I ended the call.
At noon, I received an email from the bank.
Access to our joint household checking account had been restricted pending account-owner verification.
I stared at the screen.
Gavin had not just frozen my card.
He had restricted the account used to pay for groceries, utilities, and Mia's school activities.
I called the bank.
After eleven minutes on hold, a representative explained that Gavin had reported possible unauthorized use.
“Unauthorized by whom?”
“I can't speak to the other account holder's statements.”
“I am the other account holder.”
“I understand, Mrs. Prescott.”
“Then why can't I access our money?”
The answer was procedural and useless.
I hung up shaking.
Not because I was afraid we would run out of food.
For the first time, I knew I had resources Gavin did not control.
I was shaking because he had done it so easily.
He had decided I might disobey him, so he had shut a door.
How many doors had I stopped trying to open over the years because I knew he could do that?
At 1:05, Evelyn called.
“Do not call Gavin about the bank.”
“How did you know?”
“You forwarded me the notice.”
I had done it without thinking.
“Right.”
“Keep it.”
“For what?”
“A pattern.”
That word would become important.
At 2:40, I drove to Mia's school.
Her teacher was standing near the entrance with the usual line of parents.
Mia came running toward me in a red sweater, carrying a paper sunflower she had made in art class.
“Mommy!”
I crouched and hugged her so hard she laughed.
“Mom, you're squishing me.”
“Sorry.”
I loosened my arms.
She held up the sunflower.
“It's for Daddy.”
My chest tightened.
“It's beautiful.”
“Do you think he'll like it?”
“Yes.”
I hated that I still knew he would.
Gavin loved Mia.
That was what made the next part more complicated.
People wanted villains to be simple.
They rarely were.
At home, a black SUV was parked in the driveway.
A silver sedan sat behind it.
Gavin had built a meeting inside our house without asking me.
I held Mia's hand as we entered.
Voices came from the living room.
Gavin stepped into the hallway before we reached it.
He was wearing a suit.
In our home.
At three in the afternoon.
He bent and smiled at Mia.
“Hey, bug.”
She threw herself into his arms.
For one painful second, he looked like the man I had married.
Then he glanced at me over her shoulder.
The warmth disappeared.
“Mia, why don't you go show Rosa your sunflower?”
Our housekeeper was in the kitchen.
Mia ran off.
Gavin lowered his voice.
“We need to speak privately.”
“No.”
His eyebrows lifted.
“There are attorneys here.”
“Yours.”
“They're here to help us.”
“No.”
I started toward the stairs.
He moved in front of me.
“Nora.”
I stopped.
“Move.”
“Not until you hear what they have to say.”
A man in his fifties appeared in the living-room doorway.
I recognized him from company events.
Martin Kessler.
Summit Crest's outside counsel.
Behind him stood a woman I did not know.
Gavin gestured toward them.
“Martin has prepared a joint statement.”
I looked at Martin.
“Are you my lawyer?”
His expression became cautious.
“I represent Summit Crest in corporate matters.”
“Then you don't represent me.”
“No.”
“Good.”
I turned back to Gavin.
“I'm not signing anything.”
His face darkened.
“You haven't read it.”
“I don't need to.”
The communications woman stepped forward.
“Mrs. Prescott, this is only intended to reduce speculation.”
I looked at her.
“What does it say?”
She hesitated.
That hesitation told me enough.
Martin answered instead.
“It says the video captured a misleading moment between colleagues after a long meeting and that you and Mr. Prescott remain united as a family.”
I laughed.
The sound echoed in the hallway.
Gavin's face flushed.
“You think this is funny?”
“I think it's incredible.”
I looked at Martin again.
“Does the statement mention the two-year affair?”
Martin's jaw tightened.
The communications woman looked at Gavin.
Gavin snapped.
“This is exactly why I wanted to discuss it calmly.”
“Does it mention the apartment?”
“Nora.”
“Does it mention the necklace?”
“Stop.”
Martin raised one hand.
“Perhaps this is not the right moment.”
“It wasn't the right two years either.”
I walked around Gavin.
He caught my wrist.
Not hard enough to hurt.
Hard enough to stop me.
Every person in the hallway went still.
I looked down at his hand.
Then up at his face.
“Let go.”
His fingers opened immediately.
He knew there were witnesses.
I went upstairs.
Ten minutes later, there was a knock on the bedroom door.
I expected Gavin.
It was Martin Kessler.
He stood in the hallway with his hands visible.
“I am not here as your attorney.”
“I know.”
“I need to tell you something anyway.”
I almost closed the door.
Then he lowered his voice.
“Do not sign the statement.”
My hand stopped on the door.
I stared at him.
He glanced toward the stairs.
Then he said the words that changed the shape of the day.
“Because Gavin isn't trying to protect the company from the video.”
May you like
Martin's voice became quieter.
“He's trying to protect himself from what accounting finds when they start asking who paid for the necklace.”
