Chapter 5: What Margaret Was Holding
I didn't sleep.
Daniel sat at the kitchen table until three in the morning with Paul and Karen.
I heard their voices through the wall — low, steady, occasionally stopping altogether.
Chloe had fallen asleep on the sofa with her tablet clutched to her chest.
I had covered her with the blanket from the armchair and sat in the hallway where I could see her face.
Linda had been driven home by Paul.
She had not said goodbye to Chloe.
At half past three, Daniel came and sat on the floor beside me in the hallway.
He didn't say anything for a moment.
Neither did I.
"She said Margaret has documents," I finally said.
"I know."
"What kind of documents could she possibly have?"
He was quiet.
Then: "Paul thinks she may have gotten into our financial records.
He found a reference in one of Linda's messages to a shared folder.
Something about account statements."
I turned to look at him.
"Our bank accounts?"
"Possibly.
Paul's trying to access the folder link from the message thread.
It's password protected."
I thought about what someone could do with two years of our bank statements.
The mortgage payments.
The joint account.
My name on everything.
"If she has those," I said, "and she gives them to a solicitor with a false story—"
"She won't get the chance." He looked at me.
"I promise you that."
"Daniel." I kept my voice level.
"You believed her for three hours tonight.
You packed my suitcase."
He didn't look away.
"I know."
"I'm not saying that to hurt you.
I'm saying it because she's very good at this.
And Margaret might be better."
He nodded once.
Slowly.
"Karen has a friend," he said.
"A family law solicitor.
She's calling her first thing in the morning."
"Good."
We sat there in the hallway for a while.
The house was quiet.
Chloe made a small sound in her sleep and pulled the blanket tighter.
"She watched Linda do it," I said.
"She sat at that table and watched her mother-in-law build fake evidence against her own mother and she didn't say anything until she had to."
"She was protecting you."
"She's seven."
Daniel pressed the back of his head against the wall.
"I know."
In the morning, Karen's solicitor friend called back within the hour.
Her name was Diane.
Her voice was brisk and warm at the same time.
"Tell me everything from the beginning," she said.
"Don't leave anything out."
I told her.
Daniel sat across from me at the kitchen table and filled in the parts I didn't know.
Chloe ate cereal and listened without pretending not to.
When I finished, Diane was quiet for three seconds.
"The tablet photos are your strongest asset right now," she said.
"Don't let that device out of your sight.
Don't back it up to any cloud account Linda might have access to.
Physical possession only."
"Understood."
"The letter Paul kept — that's significant.
Handwritten, return address confirmed as hers?"
"Yes."
"Good.
I want to see both today if possible."
"We can come this afternoon."
"One more thing," Diane said.
"This Margaret Holt.
Do you have any direct contact with her?
Any messages, emails, anything she sent to you personally?"
"No.
I didn't know she existed until last night."
"She may not know you know yet," Diane said.
"That's useful.
Don't contact her.
Don't let Linda know you're moving legally.
If Margaret does have financial documents, I want to know about it before she does anything with them."
After the call ended, Daniel and I sat at the table.
Chloe had finished her cereal and was drawing something on a piece of paper.
She pushed it across the table to me without looking up.
It was a drawing of three people.
A tall woman, a tall man, a small girl in the middle.
Underneath, in careful seven-year-old letters: *us*.
I folded it and put it in my pocket.
My phone buzzed.
May you like
Unknown number.
The message read: *You should ask your husband what he signed in March.*
