Chapter 4: What Brenda Decided
She stared at the screen.
The phone buzzed a second time.
"Answer it," I said.
Brenda looked at me.
"What?"
"Answer it.
Put it on speaker.
Don't tell him I'm here."
Andrew said nothing.
He watched her.
Brenda's thumb hovered.
Then she accepted the call and set the phone on the edge of the bed.
"Where are you?" Mark's voice filled the small room.
Harder now than when he'd spoken to me.
The management tone was gone.
"At the hospital," Brenda said.
Her voice was surprisingly even.
"With Andrew."
"Is she still there?"
A beat.
"No."
"Good.
Listen to me carefully.
The envelope — Andrew has an envelope.
I need you to get it back.
Tell him you need it for insurance purposes, tell him whatever you want, but I need those papers out of his hands before she gets a lawyer involved."
Andrew's jaw tightened.
He said nothing.
"Mark," Brenda said slowly.
"She already saw them."
The silence on the other end lasted four full seconds.
"How much did she see?"
"Everything.
The statements.
The transfer.
The email to Phoenix."
"That's — Brenda, that email was confidential.
How did Andrew even—"
"It was in my bag.
He found it."
"You kept a printed copy of that email in your bag?
I told you to delete everything.
I told you months ago—"
"I know what you told me."
"This is a disaster.
Do you understand what she can do with that?
That email alone—" He stopped.
When he spoke again, his voice had dropped.
"Okay.
Okay, here's what we do.
You tell Andrew you're sorry.
You go home tonight.
Tomorrow morning you come to the office and we pull the filing before anyone else sees it.
The share transfer hasn't been registered yet.
We can still—"
"Mark." Brenda's voice was quiet.
"I'm not doing that."
Silence.
"Excuse me?"
"I said I'm not doing that.
I'm not going to the office tomorrow.
I'm not pulling anything.
And I'm not lying to Andrew again."
"Brenda." His voice shifted into something lower, slower.
"Think very carefully about what you're saying.
You signed those disbursement authorizations.
Your name is on every transfer.
If this goes legal, you are not a witness.
You are a participant.
I will make sure of that."
Andrew's hand moved to Brenda's arm.
She looked down at it.
"Then I'm a participant," she said.
"But I'm not doing this anymore."
The call ended.
The room was quiet for a moment.
Then Brenda picked up the phone and set it face-down on the blanket beside Andrew's leg.
She didn't look at me.
She looked at her husband.
"I'm sorry," she said.
It came out small.
Nothing like the woman who had screamed at me in the corridor an hour ago.
Andrew looked at her for a long time.
"I know," he said finally.
Not forgiveness.
Not yet.
But not a door slamming either.
I picked up the envelope from the chair.
"I'm going to need a formal statement from you," I said to Brenda.
"Not today.
But soon.
Everything Mark said to you about the transfers, the timeline, the divorce filing.
All of it."
She nodded once.
"And I need to know one more thing." I held up the share transfer document.
"Who prepared this?
Mark's name isn't on it as the instructing party.
There's a law firm listed — Hartwell and Associates.
Do you know them?"
Brenda hesitated.
Then: "Ofelia introduced them to Mark.
About two years ago.
They handle her property portfolio."
I looked at the document again.
Ofelia's name.
Ofelia's law firm.
Four hundred thousand dollars moving into Ofelia's holding company.
This had not started eighteen months ago when the account was opened.
This had started two years ago, when Ofelia moved into our house.
I walked to the door.
Stopped with my hand on the frame.
"Andrew.
Thank you.
I mean that."
He gave a small nod.
His face was exhausted and sad and something else — the look of a man recalculating everything he thought he knew about his own life.
I recognized it.
I was wearing the same expression.
I drove home in silence.
Mark's car was in the driveway.
Every light in the house was on.
I sat in my car for two minutes.
Then I called my father.
"Papa," I said when he answered.
"I need you to find me the best business litigation attorney in Columbus.
Tonight if possible."
A pause.
Then: "Laura.
What did he do?"
"He tried to take everything," I said.
"But he made one mistake."
"What mistake?"
"He didn't finish before I found out."
I heard my father exhale slowly.
"I'll make some calls.
Don't go inside that house alone."
"I won't," I said.
May you like
But I was already looking at the front door.
And the light in the upstairs window — Mark's study — had just gone dark.
