Chapter 7: The Documents
Robert called Emmett the next morning at seven forty-five.
Emmett called me at seven forty-six.
"Come over," he said.
"Now."
I was there in twenty minutes.
Gary was already at the kitchen table.
Robert — a compact, precise man in his sixties who had handled our family's legal affairs for fifteen years — was on the laptop screen, his reading glasses pushed up on his forehead.
"Good morning," he said when I sat down.
"I'll be brief.
I've been up most of the night."
He shared his screen.
A document appeared — dense with legal language, but Robert walked us through it in plain terms.
Three weeks before the wedding, Claire had visited a solicitor in the city.
Not a family friend.
A specialist in matrimonial asset law.
She had submitted a detailed financial summary of Emmett's assets — including the trust structure set up for Margot after Phoebe's life insurance paid out.
The summary was accurate down to the decimal point.
"How did she get those numbers?" Emmett asked.
"That's the question," Robert said.
"The trust documents are private.
You would have had to share them with her directly, or —"
"I didn't."
"— or someone with access to them did."
The three of us looked at the screen.
"Daniel Marsh," Gary said.
Robert's expression didn't change.
"I don't know that name yet.
But I'd like to."
Gary pulled up the screenshots on his own phone and read out the details.
Robert typed as he listened, his face giving nothing away.
When Gary finished, Robert sat back.
"All right," he said.
"Here's what I can tell you.
The document she filed with her solicitor is a preliminary asset declaration — the kind you prepare when you're anticipating a financial claim.
It's not illegal to prepare one.
But preparing it three weeks before a wedding, based on private trust documents you should not have had access to, is a significant problem."
"Can she make a claim on Margot's trust?" Emmett asked.
"Not directly.
The trust is structured to protect Margot until she's twenty-five.
But —" Robert paused.
"There are mechanisms.
If she were to establish herself as Margot's primary caregiver, for instance, and if Emmett were to be removed from the picture in some way —"
"Removed how?"
Robert chose his words carefully.
"Legally.
A custody arrangement, a separation, a finding of parental incapacity.
Any of those could create grounds for her to petition for access to trust funds on Margot's behalf."
The kitchen was very quiet.
"She was going to try to take Margot," Emmett said.
"I don't know that.
I'm telling you what the document structure suggests is possible."
"But that's the shape of it."
Robert looked at him steadily.
"That is one possible shape, yes."
Emmett stood up and walked to the kitchen window.
He stood there the way he had stood at his own dining room window the night before — very still, working through something too large to process quickly.
"She's upstairs," he said.
"She's asleep.
She made me breakfast this morning before I came down here."
No one said anything.
"She made me eggs," he said.
"She was humming."
Gary looked at his hands.
I said, "Emmett."
He turned around.
"What do you need from me right now?"
He thought about it.
"I need to know Margot is safe."
"She's safe.
She's at school.
She's fine."
"I need to know that whatever happens next, Margot doesn't lose anything else."
"Robert," I said.
"What does he need to do?"
Robert straightened.
"First, do not confront Claire yet.
Second, I need Emmett to come to my office this afternoon and sign an amended protective order for the trust — it's a precaution, it closes the gaps.
Third, I'm going to make some calls about Daniel Marsh.
If he accessed private financial documents without authorization, that is a criminal matter, not just a civil one."
"And Claire?" Emmett asked.
"Claire is your wife as of thirty-six hours ago," Robert said.
"Which means this needs to be handled carefully and quickly.
I'd like to have more information before you say anything to her."
Emmett nodded.
"Can you keep going?" Robert asked.
"Another day or two of normal?"
Emmett looked at the ceiling.
Then at me.
Then at Gary.
"Yes," he said.
"Good." Robert took off his glasses.
"Because I think she's going to move sooner than she planned.
Last night changed the timeline.
She knows people are watching."
The laptop screen went dark as Robert ended the call.
The three of us sat in the kitchen.
From upstairs, faintly, came the sound of a shower running.
Emmett looked at the ceiling.
"She's humming again," he said.
Gary reached across the table and put a hand on Emmett's arm.
He didn't say anything.
There was nothing to say.
Outside the window, the morning was bright and ordinary.
A neighbor walked a dog.
A delivery van idled at the corner.
Emmett picked up his coffee mug, realized it was empty, and set it back down.
May you like
"Okay," he said.
"Let's go sign the documents."
