Chapter 3 - THE WOMAN WHO SIGNED AS ME
Robert called his attorney from the corner of my hospital room.
I listened as he asked the same question three different ways.
Each answer made his expression darker.
The petition had been filed electronically through a law firm I had never heard of.
The attached affidavit claimed I was mentally distressed, medically unstable, and unable to understand Robert’s transfer of the house.
It said I believed the deed had been obtained through coercion.
It also claimed Nathan was acting as my authorized representative.
I felt sick.
“They are using the fake power of attorney again.”
Robert ended the call.
“It was revoked at nine this morning.”
“Then how could the filing go through?”
“Because the attorney who filed it either does not know it was revoked or does not care.”
I looked toward the door.
Nathan was somewhere outside that wall.
Less than an hour after watching his mother hit me, he had filed legal papers in my name from a hospital hallway.
The speed of it told me this was not panic.
It was preparation.
“They already had the affidavit ready.”
Robert did not answer.
I looked at him.
“They had it ready before tonight.”
“Yes.”
The word landed heavily.
My marriage had ended for me at the Thanksgiving table.
Apparently, Nathan had begun ending it much earlier.
The hospital security officer returned a few minutes later.
He said Nathan and Margaret had left the floor.
I did not believe they had gone home.
Neither did Robert.
He called a woman named Olivia Grant and told her to come to the hospital.
She arrived forty minutes later in a charcoal coat, carrying a laptop bag and no visible patience.
Olivia introduced herself as Robert’s attorney.
Then she looked at me.
“Tonight, I am not your attorney unless you choose to hire me.”
I appreciated the clarity.
“Can you stop the petition?”
“Yes.”
“Can you prove I did not sign it?”
“Probably.”
“Can you prove my husband did?”
“That will take longer.”
I hired her before she finished the sentence.
She opened her laptop on the rolling hospital tray and began asking questions.
Had I ever authorized Nathan to file legal documents for me?
No.
Had I given him access to my email?
Years ago, yes.
Did he know my passwords?
He had known several old ones.
Did we share devices?
We had shared a home office computer.
Did I use two-factor authentication?
On most accounts, but not all.
Olivia stopped typing.
“When did you last change the password on your primary email?”
I thought about it.
“Maybe two years ago.”
She looked at Robert.
“Get her phone.”
I handed it to her.
She opened the email settings and checked active sessions.
Three devices were signed in.
My phone.
My laptop.
And a Windows computer located at our house.
Nathan’s office computer.
Olivia signed it out immediately.
Then she changed my password and recovery settings while I watched.
My hands trembled so badly she had to hold the phone steady while I typed the new code.
“That petition may be the best mistake they made tonight.”
I looked at her.
“How?”
“If it was prepared before the assault, it helps establish planning.”
“If it was prepared after, the timestamp may show they used your credentials while you were under medical care.”
“Either way, they created a trail.”
I wanted to believe her.
But Nathan had spent years creating trails I never noticed.
I did not trust paperwork anymore.
At two in the morning, the doctor discharged me with instructions to return if I had contractions, bleeding, dizziness, or reduced fetal movement.
I could not go home.
Not because I lacked the legal right.
Because I was afraid of what might be waiting there.
Robert offered to take me to a hotel.
Olivia shook her head.
“Too easy to locate.”
She arranged a private apartment used by her firm for clients in emergency situations.
As we prepared to leave, a nurse handed me a sealed evidence envelope containing printed photographs of my injuries and discharge paperwork.
I tucked it into my purse.
The elevator doors opened on the parking level.
A woman was standing beside Robert’s car.
For one second, I did not recognize her.
Then she stepped beneath the fluorescent light.
Lauren Price.
Nathan’s former assistant.
She looked thinner than I remembered.
Her hair was pulled into a messy knot.
She wore no makeup.
And she was crying.
Robert stopped walking.
Olivia moved slightly in front of me.
Lauren raised both hands.
“I’m not here to hurt anyone.”
I stared at her.
“Why are you here?”
Her eyes went to my bandaged hand.
Then to my face.
She looked genuinely shocked.
“He did that?”
“No.”
I heard the bitterness in my own voice.
“His mother did.”
Lauren closed her eyes briefly.
“I’m sorry.”
I wanted to hate her.
I wanted the eighty-five-thousand-dollar transfer to be simple proof of an affair.
Instead, the fear on her face complicated everything.
“Why did Nathan send you eighty-five thousand dollars?”
Lauren went pale.
Robert and Olivia exchanged a glance.
“How do you know about that?”
“Answer me.”
She swallowed.
“He didn’t send it to me.”
“The transfer has your name on it.”
“I know.”
“Then explain it.”
Lauren looked around the garage.
“Not here.”
Olivia did not move.
“Why?”
“Because Nathan knows I contacted Mr. Hayes.”
Robert’s head snapped toward her.
“You contacted me once, anonymously.”
Lauren nodded.
“That was me.”
I looked at Robert.
“You knew?”
“I did not know who the caller was.”
Lauren stepped closer.
“I sent the message that told him to audit Marlow Consulting.”
My anger shifted direction again.
“Why?”
Lauren pressed her lips together.
“Because I was the one who created the invoices.”
Silence filled the garage.
I stared at her.
“You stole from me?”
“No.”
She shook her head quickly.
“I helped them steal from the company.”
“Then I found out they were using your accounts too.”
“And when I tried to quit, they made it look like I had taken money.”
She pulled a flash drive from her coat pocket.
“This is why I disappeared.”
Olivia did not reach for it.
“What is on that?”
“Copies of emails, invoices, transfer instructions, and voice messages.”
Her eyes met mine.
“And one recording you need to hear before Nathan finds me.”
My pulse quickened.
“Recording of what?”
Lauren looked at Robert, then back at me.
“Your husband and his mother talking about what they were going to do after your baby was born.”
I could not breathe for a second.
Olivia finally took the flash drive.
“We are not listening to this in a parking garage.”
Lauren grabbed her wrist.
“You need to understand something first.”
Olivia’s face hardened.
“Let go.”
Lauren released her immediately.
Then she looked at me.
“The house was never the thing they wanted most.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did they want?”
Lauren’s answer was almost a whisper.
“They wanted you declared incapable of managing your own property.”
May you like
“And they needed the baby to make the plan work.”
