Chapter 8: The Lie He Chose
Carol called me at noon.
"He's lawyered up with Martin Greer," she said.
I knew the name.
Everyone in town knew the name.
Martin Greer was the attorney you hired when you had money and wanted to make a problem disappear.
"What does that mean for us?" I asked.
"It means Tyler is going to contest everything.
The business valuation, the asset division, the fraud claim — all of it.
Greer will drag this out as long as he can, hoping you run out of patience or money." A pause.
"He also filed a counter-motion this morning claiming the house is a marital asset despite the independent purchase documentation."
"He can't win that."
"He knows he can't win it.
That's not the point.
The point is to create enough noise that you agree to a settlement that favors him just to make it stop."
I sat down at the kitchen table.
The same table where Tyler had opened the folder.
Where Rachel had sat with all that confidence.
"What do you need from me?" I asked.
"I need you to hold steady," Carol said.
"And I need you to come in tomorrow morning.
David Holt's attorney and I are coordinating the simultaneous freeze filing.
When it goes through, Tyler will have no access to any business or joint account.
Not a dollar." She paused.
"But there's something else."
"Tell me."
"Greer's office called mine an hour ago.
Tyler is offering a settlement.
He'll give you the house — officially, cleanly — in exchange for dropping the fraud claim against the LLC."
I almost laughed.
"He wants me to let him keep the stolen money in exchange for a house that's already legally mine," I said.
"That's correct."
"Tell Greer no."
"I already did," Carol said.
"But Debra — Tyler called me directly after that.
He shouldn't have done that.
He said—" She stopped.
"What did he say?"
"He said if you don't take the settlement, he'll tell your children that you knew about his affairs for years and did nothing.
That you chose money over the family." A pause.
"He said he has text messages that can be taken out of context."
The kitchen was very quiet.
My daughter was twenty-two.
My son was nineteen.
They didn't know any of this yet.
I'd been protecting them while I got everything in order.
"He's going to use the kids," I said.
"He's threatening to," Carol said.
"I want you to hear it from me before he acts on it."
I stood up and walked to the window.
The garden was starting to come back — the roses I'd planted the first spring after we moved in, the ones Tyler had always said needed too much work.
"Let him," I said.
"Debra—"
"Let him tell them whatever he wants.
Because I'm going to tell them the truth first." I turned away from the window.
"Tonight.
Both of them.
Before he gets the chance."
Carol was quiet for a moment.
"Are you sure?" she said.
"I've been protecting everyone in this family for eighteen years," I said.
"I'm done protecting the wrong person."
May you like
That evening I called my daughter, Lena, and my son, Marcus.
I told them to come home.
