Chapter 15 - The Lowest Point
The news that Owen had the case hit me with unexpected force.
Part of me had wanted Aaron's brother to be an innocent man living behind an alias for reasons I couldn't understand.
Now his name had surfaced beside the people who had taken my home, nearly destroyed my career, and manipulated my marriage.
I spent the night staring at the motel ceiling.
At dawn, my knee locked when I stood.
I caught the edge of the dresser and nearly fell.
The doctor had warned me that the fight could aggravate old damage.
I'd ignored how badly.
I sat on the floor until the pain eased.
Then I called my physical therapist and moved my next appointment forward.
It was a small choice.
But it mattered.
I was tired of proving strength by pretending nothing hurt.
Nora called with another setback.
The court had temporarily frozen certain disputed transfers while the authenticity of the documents was reviewed, but Price's attorneys were fighting every request.
He'd also filed a civil complaint accusing me of defamation.
The objective was obvious.
Make the cost of defending myself unbearable.
And there was worse.
A bank account I'd shared with Claire had been drained down to the minimum balance allowed under its terms.
She claimed the money had been used for household expenses.
Nora would seek full accounting through the divorce process.
Until then, I had legal bills, medical bills, and a motel room that never felt like mine.
I called Rachel to explain what we'd learned about Owen.
She listened quietly.
Then she said, “I spent years telling myself Aaron died doing something that mattered.”
“He did.”
“Then don't let his brother turn him into a bargaining chip.”
After we hung up, I took the old photograph from my wallet.
I looked at Aaron's face.
I remembered the jokes he'd told while holding pressure on my knee.
For the first time since the divorce, I cried.
Not because Derek had punched me.
Not because Claire had called me boring.
Because I had spent years avoiding a grief that was still waiting for me.
Just before midnight, the motel clerk knocked.
A woman had left an envelope with my name on it.
Inside was a copy of a letter dated fifteen years earlier.
It was addressed to Aaron.
The signature read Owen.
And the first sentence changed everything.
May you like
If anything happens to you, it will be because I refused to sign Sloane's false inspection report.
