Chapter 4: The Brother Nobody Mentioned
I picked up the document.
It was a legal notice.
Reeves Callahan, listed as surviving sibling, asserting rights to the estate of Lawrence Callahan, d*ceased.
Filed four days ago.
The ink looked almost impatient.
"Larry never mentioned a brother," I said.
"He wouldn't have." Daniel wrapped both hands around his cup.
"They hadn't spoken in over twenty years.
Reeves was the one who got the family land in the original will — or he thought he did.
Their father left it jointly.
Larry's half passed to Larry.
Reeves spent years trying to get Larry to sign it over."
"And Larry refused."
"Every time." Daniel's voice hardened slightly.
"Reeves has money.
He's done well for himself.
But he always wanted that land.
It's not about the money for him.
It's about winning."
I set the document back on the table.
"Does Reeves know about me?"
"He knows Larry married someone.
His lawyer contacted mine two days ago." Daniel met my eyes.
"He's calling the marriage fraudulent.
He's saying Larry was not of sound mind.
That you took advantage of a dying, vulnerable man."
The words landed like something cold dropped on the back of my neck.
"He's going to try to have the marriage invalidated," Daniel continued.
"If he succeeds, your claim disappears.
The estate goes to him as next of kin, and I get a legal fight that could take years."
I thought about the courthouse.
The eleven minutes.
The papers I had signed without a single thought about money, because there had been no money to think about.
"I married him because he asked me to," I said.
"I didn't know about any land.
I didn't know about any estate.
I didn't even know he had a family."
"I believe you," Daniel said.
"Your lawyer might not."
"My lawyer isn't the problem." He leaned forward slightly.
"Reeves is."
A notification lit up my phone on the table.
I glanced down without meaning to.
A number I didn't recognize.
A text, not a call this time.
*Mrs.
Callahan.
My name is Victor Marsh.
I represent Reeves Callahan.
I'd like to speak with you before this goes any further.
I think we can resolve this quietly and fairly.
Please call me at your earliest convenience.*
I turned the phone so Daniel could read it.
He read it twice.
Then he sat back.
"He moves fast," Daniel said.
"What does 'resolve this quietly' mean?"
"It means he wants to offer you something small to walk away.
Before you lawyer up.
Before you understand what you actually have."
I looked at the message again.
*Quietly and fairly.* Two words that, together, meant neither.
"Don't call him," Daniel said.
"Not yet.
Not without someone in your corner."
"I don't have a lawyer."
"I know one," he said.
"She handled my search for my father.
She's good.
She's honest.
And she already knows most of this story." He slid a business card across the table.
"Her name is Grace Holloway.
She's expecting your call."
I picked up the card.
"Daniel." I looked at him directly.
"Why are you helping me?
If the marriage is invalidated, you're the next in line.
You'd get everything."
He didn't answer immediately.
He looked at the window.
A woman outside was walking a small dog, moving slowly, in no particular hurry.
"Because my father chose you," he said finally.
"Out of everyone he could have asked.
He chose you.
And I spent four years trying to find him, and I never got to ask him why he did half the things he did." His voice dropped.
"But I think — I think he was trying to do something right, at the end.
And I don't want to be the person who undoes it."
I held the business card in both hands.
My phone buzzed again.
The same unknown number.
May you like
Victor Marsh, calling this time.
I let it ring.
