Chapter 9: The Negotiation
Eric's attorney was named Gerald Marsh, and he had the voice of a man who believed that measured, reasonable tones could make unreasonable things sound acceptable.
Patricia had me on speaker in her office.
Barbara sat beside me.
We had agreed before the call that I would listen more than I spoke.
"My client appreciates the family's concern," Gerald began, "and wants to find a path forward that works for everyone involved."
Patricia said, "We're listening."
"Eric is prepared to acknowledge paternity formally and to establish a voluntary child support arrangement.
He's also prepared to release a portion of the funds from the secondary account — as a gesture of goodwill — to cover outstanding medical expenses for the child."
"A portion," Patricia said.
"A meaningful portion.
We're talking about covering the NICU balance and the ongoing treatment costs.
That's not nothing."
"No," Patricia said.
"It isn't.
What does he want in return?"
A pause.
"He'd like Robert Calloway to lift the protective hold on the trust distribution."
"And?"
Another pause, slightly longer.
"He'd like assurance that the asset transfer matter — the secondary account, the wire to the third party — won't be included in the divorce filing."
Patricia looked at me.
I kept my face still.
"He wants us to bury the financial misconduct," Patricia said.
"He wants a clean resolution," Gerald said.
"For everyone's benefit."
"Including Dana's husband's benefit," Patricia said.
"Since that wire transfer, if disclosed in open court, would be of considerable interest to a man who is currently Eric's client and whose wife received eleven thousand dollars from marital funds."
Silence.
"That's a separate matter," Gerald said carefully.
"It's in the same folder," Patricia said.
I watched her work.
She was completely calm.
She had the folder open in front of her but she didn't look at it.
She didn't need to.
"Here's what my client is prepared to accept," Patricia said.
"Full financial disclosure through a court-appointed forensic accountant.
A child support order at the statutory maximum given Eric's documented income, including the income from the rental property currently held in his cousin's name.
A one-time payment covering all outstanding medical costs for Chloe, in full, not a portion.
And a legally binding agreement that Eric will make no custody claim — temporary or otherwise — for any purpose, including any trust-related residency requirement, for a period of no less than five years, subject to review."
"That's not a negotiation," Gerald said.
"That's a surrender."
"It's what the evidence supports," Patricia said.
"Your client moved marital funds to a third party during an intact marriage.
He attempted to file a paternity waiver on a child he was legally obligated to support.
He concealed an asset in a family member's name.
And he has been sending threatening text messages to my client from unregistered numbers."
A beat.
"We have screenshots," Patricia said.
"Both of them."
The line was quiet for a moment.
"I'll need to speak with my client," Gerald said.
"Of course.
We'll expect a response by end of business Thursday." Patricia's voice didn't change.
"One more thing.
The forensic accountant — my client has a name she'd like to propose.
Robert Calloway has offered to recommend one from the trust's existing firm.
Given that Mr.
Calloway is the trustee and has independent standing in this matter, his recommendation carries weight.
I trust your client will have no objection."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
"I'll be in touch," Gerald said.
Patricia ended the call.
She looked at me.
"He'll come back with a counter.
It'll be lower than what we asked for, but it'll be real.
He doesn't want the forensic accountant."
"Because of the property," I said.
"Because of the property, and because of Dana, and because of whatever else is in those accounts that we haven't found yet." She closed the folder.
"Men who hide one thing usually hide more than one thing."
Barbara was quiet for a moment.
Then she said, "He's going to blame me.
When this is over.
He's going to say I destroyed his life."
"Did you?" Patricia said.
Barbara looked at her.
"No."
"Then let him say it." Patricia stood.
"I'll call you Thursday evening.
Keep your phone on."
I stood up.
My legs felt steadier than they had in months.
Outside Patricia's office, Barbara stopped me in the hallway.
"How are you?" she said.
Not as a formality.
As a real question.
I thought about it.
"I'm angry," I said.
"But it's the useful kind."
She nodded.
"Good," she said.
"Hold onto that."
My phone rang as we reached the elevator.
It was my neighbor — the one watching Chloe.
"Everything's fine," she said immediately, before I could speak.
"She's fine.
She just did something I thought you'd want to know about."
"What?"
"She laughed," my neighbor said.
"A real one.
First time.
I wanted you to hear it from me."
I stood in the hallway of a law firm with a folder full of evidence against my daughter's father, and I started to cry.
May you like
Not the kind from before — the kind with no tears left at the end.
The other kind.
