Chapter 9: What Donna Pryce Had to Say
Robert Hess sent a formal letter to Whitfield and Associates four days later.
It outlined the circumstances under which the household agreement had been signed, cited the coercive statements Elise had documented in a written account, and noted that the unsigned property petition represented a clear attempt to obtain co-management rights over a private residence through deception.
The letter requested that Donna Pryce provide a written account of her instructions and the scope of work she had been retained to perform.
Donna Pryce called me directly the following Tuesday.
I put her on speaker.
Elise sat across the table.
I had a notepad in front of me.
"Mr.
Callahan," she said, "I want to be transparent with you.
I was retained by your mother to prepare both documents.
My understanding was that the household agreement was a mutual arrangement between your wife and your mother, and that you were aware of it."
"That was not the case."
A pause.
"I understand that now.
I want you to know that I prepared the documents in good faith based on the instructions I was given.
I was not informed that your wife was being pressured to sign."
"Were you present during the signing?"
"No.
Your mother told me it had been signed and returned the original to me for filing.
I held it for two weeks before returning it to her at her request."
"And the property petition?"
A longer pause.
"That document was prepared at your mother's request as a contingency.
She described it as a protective measure in case the living arrangement became contentious.
I advised her that it would require your signature to have any legal standing.
She told me she would handle that."
"She was going to present it to me on Friday.
Without telling me what it was."
Silence on the line.
"Ms.
Pryce," I said, "my lawyer will be in touch about next steps.
I'd encourage you to cooperate fully."
"I intend to," she said quietly.
"Mr.
Callahan — I'm sorry.
I should have asked more questions."
I ended the call.
Elise looked at me across the table.
"She knew," she said.
"Maybe not everything.
But she knew enough."
"Yes."
"What happens to her?"
"Robert is filing a complaint with the state bar's paralegal oversight board.
She prepared a document designed to restrict your rights in your own home based on false information.
That's a professional conduct issue at minimum." I set the phone down.
"Whitfield and Associates has already been notified.
Robert says they'll likely terminate her contract to protect the firm."
Elise was quiet for a moment.
"Your mother called me this morning," she said.
I looked up.
"I didn't answer.
She left a voicemail." Elise paused.
"She said she was sorry.
That she'd been frightened and made poor choices.
That she hoped someday I could understand."
"What did you feel when you heard it?"
Elise thought about it honestly.
"Tired," she said.
"Just tired."
I reached across the table and covered her bandaged hand with mine.
"The burns," I said.
"Have you had them looked at properly?"
"I have a doctor's appointment Thursday."
"I'll take you."
She looked at me.
Something in her face shifted — not dramatically, just quietly.
The way a door opens when someone finally uses the right key.
"Okay," she said.
Outside, a car pulled into the driveway.
My mother was loading the last of her bags.
She had found an apartment in Concord — a two-bedroom, thirty minutes away.
Her friend Carol had helped her find it.
She had not asked me for money, which surprised me.
She had not asked Elise for anything, which did not.
I watched through the kitchen window as she lifted a box into the back seat.
She paused before closing the car door.
Looked up at the house.
I didn't move away from the window.
I let her see me.
She held my gaze for a moment.
May you like
Then she closed the car door, got in the driver's side, and backed out of the driveway.
I stayed at the window until the car turned the corner and was gone.
