Chapter 7: Ask Her About the Will
I didn't say anything in the car.
Barbara drove.
She talked about Patricia — sharp woman, good instincts, the right kind of firm.
She talked about the title search and what she expected it would show.
She talked about Eric the way mothers sometimes do when they have finally given themselves permission to be honest: not with anger, but with a tired, clear-eyed grief.
I watched the road and said the right things at the right moments.
When she pulled up outside my building, I turned to her.
"Someone texted me," I said.
"While we were in Patricia's office."
She looked at me.
I read it to her from my phone.
*You should ask Barbara what she's not telling you.
There's a reason she was so ready to help.
Ask her about the will.*
The car was quiet.
Barbara's hands stayed on the wheel.
"Who sent that?" she said.
"I don't know the number."
She was quiet for another moment.
Then she said, "Eric."
"You think he sent it?"
"Or someone he told to send it." She turned off the engine.
"He knew we went to see a lawyer today.
He has people who tell him things."
"Barbara." I kept my voice steady.
"Is there something about a will I should know?"
She looked at her hands.
Then out the windshield.
Then at me.
"His grandfather left a trust," she said.
"Eric's father's father.
He passed four years ago.
The trust was structured so that Eric would receive a significant distribution when he had a legitimate heir — a biological child — who reached one year of age."
I waited.
"Chloe is that heir," Barbara said.
"When she turns one, Eric becomes entitled to the distribution.
Somewhere in the range of three hundred thousand dollars."
The number sat between us.
"He knew about this when he left me," I said.
"Yes."
"He knew about it when he tried to file the paternity waiver."
Barbara closed her eyes briefly.
"If he had successfully removed himself as her legal father before she was born, he would have forfeited the distribution.
The trust required a biological child he legally acknowledged."
"So he changed his mind," I said.
"He filed the waiver, his lawyer refused, and then he — what?
He decided to stay on the birth certificate.
To keep his options open."
"I believe so."
"He doesn't want to be her father," I said.
"He wants the money she unlocks."
Barbara didn't answer.
She didn't need to.
"How long have you known this?"
"I found out about the trust three weeks ago.
My brother-in-law — Eric's uncle — he called me.
He was worried about what Eric might try to do once Chloe turned one.
Whether he might try to take her.
Even temporarily.
Just long enough to satisfy the trust's residency requirement."
My hands went cold.
"There's a residency requirement?"
"Thirty consecutive days in the father's household.
It's an old clause.
His grandfather was traditional.
He wanted the father to be present." Barbara's voice was careful.
"Eric knows about it.
He's been talking to a lawyer about it."
I thought about the text.
*There's a reason she was so ready to help.*
"Why didn't you tell me?" I said.
"Because I didn't want to frighten you before we had a plan." She turned to face me fully.
"And because I was ashamed.
This is my family.
This is what my family is capable of."
"You should have told me."
"Yes," she said.
"I should have."
I looked at the building entrance.
Upstairs, my neighbor had Chloe.
Chloe, who was four months old and had no idea that she was the center of a calculation that had started before she was born.
"Patricia needs to know," I said.
"Yes."
"Today."
"I'll call her when I get home."
I got out of the car.
Then I stopped and turned back.
"The text was meant to make me distrust you," I said.
"To split us up before we could do any more damage."
Barbara looked at me through the open door.
"I know," she said.
"It didn't work."
She nodded once.
Her eyes were wet, but she didn't look away.
"There's one more thing," she said.
"Eric's uncle — the one who called me.
His name is Robert.
He's the trustee."
"Meaning he controls when the distribution is paid."
"Meaning he controls everything about how that trust is administered." She paused.
"He doesn't like what Eric is doing.
He called me because he wanted me to know.
He wanted someone to protect that little girl."
I stood in the cold for a moment.
May you like
"Can I meet him?" I said.
"He's been waiting for you to ask," Barbara said.
