Chapter 5: The Man Who Signed My Name
For a moment I didn't say anything.
I just looked at him.
The man I had married nine years ago in a church four streets from my mother's house.
The man who had held Lily in the delivery room and cried.
The man who had stood at my mother's graveside and held my hand and said, *Whatever you need.
I'm here.*
"You forged my signature," I said.
"I know how that sounds."
"Do you?"
"Emma, I was trying to protect us.
Richard was going to lose everything.
His business, his house — Carol would have been on the street.
I couldn't let that happen."
"So you handed him my mother's house instead."
"It was supposed to be sixty days.
That was the agreement."
"And now it's been fourteen months."
"He kept extending.
There were complications.
I kept thinking it would resolve."
"While I lived in my mother's house not knowing it wasn't mine anymore."
He flinched.
That was something, at least.
"I'm going to fix this," he said.
"How?"
"I'll talk to Richard.
I'll make him sign it back.
I'll—"
"Patricia is pulling the filed document this afternoon," I said.
"If your name is on my signature line, she will report it.
That is not my decision.
That is the law."
Daniel went pale.
"Emma.
If this goes legal, Richard could face charges.
Our family—"
"Richard *should* face charges.
And so should you."
He crossed the room in three steps.
Not aggressive — desperate.
He stopped just short of touching me.
"Please," he said.
"I am asking you.
Don't do this.
Give me one week.
Seven days.
I will get the deed back, I will have it in your hands, and we can put this behind us."
"Behind us."
"Yes."
I looked at him.
"Lily asked me this morning if we were going back to Uncle Richard's for Christmas next year.
I told her I didn't know." I picked up my coffee cup.
"The answer is no.
We are never going back there."
"Emma—"
"And I want you to go stay with your brother while I think."
"You're asking me to leave."
"I'm telling you to leave.
Today.
Take what you need for a week."
"And Lily?"
"Lily stays with me."
He stood very still.
I watched him calculate — the way he always calculated when he thought I wasn't watching.
Weighing options.
Looking for the angle.
Then something in him seemed to give.
"All right," he said quietly.
"I'll go."
He went upstairs.
I heard drawers opening and closing.
Lily came down in her pajamas and found me at the table.
"Where's Daddy going?"
"He's going to stay with Uncle Richard for a little while."
She thought about this.
"Because of last night?"
"Yes."
She climbed into the chair across from me.
Pulled her knees up to her chest — the same position she'd held on the floor the night before.
"Uncle Richard is mean," she said.
"I know."
"He's always mean.
Even when you're not looking."
I set my cup down.
"What do you mean, sweetheart?
When I'm not looking?"
She picked at a loose thread on her pajama sleeve.
"He says things.
When the grown-ups are in the other room."
"What kind of things?"
She looked up at me.
Her eyes were very serious for five years old.
"He told me once that this isn't really our house.
He said it belongs to him and Daddy was just borrowing it." She paused.
"I didn't tell you because I thought I'd get in trouble."
I reached across the table and took her hand.
"You are not in any trouble," I said.
"Not even a little bit."
The front door opened and closed.
Daniel was gone.
I looked at my daughter's hand in mine and I thought about a five-year-old carrying that secret alone, not knowing what it meant, only knowing it felt wrong.
My phone buzzed on the table.
A text from a number I didn't recognize.
*Emma.
It's Carol.
I need to talk to you before Patricia gets that document.
There's something you don't know.
May you like
Something Richard did before the deed.
Please call me.*
