Chapter 5 - The Policy
We had no life insurance policy that I knew about, at least none involving me.
Trent handled our bills, our bank account, and even the mail.
He called it taking care of me.
Now I was learning how much information he had hidden behind that phrase.
Alex contacted the attorney whose name I had written in the letter, Hannah Reed.
She arrived at the hospital carrying a slim folder and a way of speaking that made space for an answer.
She asked whether I had signed any insurance documents after becoming pregnant.
I remembered Trent placing a stack of papers beside my plate two months earlier.
He'd said they were routine mortgage updates.
When I asked to read them, Helen laughed and said I was acting like a lawyer.
I signed because Trent stood over me until I did.
Hannah told me not to assume what the documents meant until we had them.
She did say that we could request records and challenge anything signed under coercion or obtained by fraud.
Later Ellis confirmed that investigators had obtained a lead concerning a policy issued by a private insurer.
It listed Trent as beneficiary and had been increased recently.
My mouth went dry.
Hannah was careful.
“A policy isn't proof of a crime,” she said.
“But alongside the threats and timing, it warrants close examination.” That night I dreamed of the stick striking the marble island while my daughter kicked desperately inside me.
I woke reaching for my stomach.
A nurse checked the monitor and stayed until my breathing settled.
The hospital chaplain offered to visit; I declined, and my choice was respected.
Nothing about my recovery felt dramatic.
I wanted water, sleep, privacy, and one ordinary minute without fear.
In the morning, Hannah called with a new concern.
Trent had filed a request in family court claiming that I was mentally unstable and incapable of making medical decisions.
He attached a statement from his mother.
The statement described me as delusional, aggressive, and prone to self-harm.
I stared at those words while my wrist throbbed inside its splint.
“Can he take control of my care?” I asked.
Hannah said the request did not automatically give him that power, and the medical team already knew about the danger.
She would respond immediately.
Then Alex told us something that explained why Trent had acted so confident.
Richard Mercer had once worked in the county clerk's office.
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And the attorney named on Trent's petition had been Richard's closest friend for twenty years.
