Chapter 9: The Letter
Diane sent the counter-filing on a Wednesday.
She called me the same morning to walk me through it before Derek's attorney received it.
She was methodical about this — she never let me learn something important secondhand.
"The counter-filing includes four things," she said.
"Dr.
Fenwick's sworn statement that the signature on the pharmacy record is not hers and that no such prescription was ever issued.
A formal complaint filed with the Ohio medical licensing board regarding the forged document.
A police report filed by Dr.
Fenwick in Columbus two days ago naming the forgery as a crjme under Ohio law.
And a summary of the financial control documentation from your notebook — eight months of records showing a pattern of economic coercion."
I was standing in Rachel's kitchen.
Outside the window, the first real warmth of spring was settling over the street.
"How do you think Derek's attorney will respond?" I said.
"His attorney is good," Diane said.
"Which means his attorney is going to look at what we've sent and immediately understand that the case has changed.
The substance @buse claim is not just dismissed — it's now a liability.
If Derek pushes it further, he's pushing a document that a physician has sworn under oath is forged." A pause.
"Good attorneys don't push losing positions.
They cut them."
"And Derek?"
"Derek is going to be furious," Diane said simply.
"And then he's going to be scared.
And then, if his attorney is doing their job, he's going to be told to settle."
"What does settlement look like?" I said.
"Full divorce.
Equitable asset division accounting for the financial control pattern.
Primary physical custody of Emily with you in Pennsylvania.
Structured visitation for Derek, supervised initially given the circumstances.
Child support." A pause.
"He won't want to agree.
But his alternative is a trial where we introduce the forged document, the financial records, the hotel receipt, the text messages, and Dr.
Fenwick on the stand."
Emily was in the bouncy seat on the kitchen table, watching the window with the focused intensity she brought to everything.
A branch was moving outside in the light wind.
She tracked it back and forth.
"He's going to blame Karen," I said.
"Yes," Diane said.
"He already has.
His attorney included a note in this morning's response suggesting that Karen acted without Derek's knowledge or instruction."
"And Karen?"
A pause.
"Karen has retained her own attorney," Diane said.
"Which tells you everything you need to know about how much she trusts Derek to protect her."
I almost felt something for Karen in that moment.
Not sympathy exactly.
More like recognition.
She had believed Derek too.
She had done something irreversible for a man who was already preparing to hand her over.
"What happens to her?" I said.
"That's between her, her attorney, and the prosecutor," Diane said.
"It's not your case to carry."
"I know," I said.
"I just wanted to understand the whole picture."
"You have it now," Diane said.
"All of it." A brief pause.
"Claire.
You did everything right.
You kept records when most people don't.
You left when you were ready.
You didn't panic when he filed.
Everything you did gave us something to work with." She paused again.
"I want you to know that.
Not every case comes in with this kind of foundation."
I looked at Emily tracking the branch in the window.
"I had eight months to prepare," I said.
"Most people have eight months," Diane said.
"They don't use them the way you did."
We said goodbye.
I set the phone on the table.
Rachel came in from the hallway, drying her hands on a dish towel.
"Well?" she said.
"He's going to settle," I said.
Rachel sat down across from me at the table.
"How do you feel?" she said.
I thought about it honestly.
"Like I've been holding my breath for a very long time," I said.
"And I can almost breathe again.
But not quite yet."
Rachel nodded.
She understood the difference.
"Soon," she said.
"Soon," I agreed.
Emily had lost the branch.
She looked around for it, didn't find it, and settled on Rachel's face instead.
Her expression shifted into something that was not quite a smile yet but was clearly practicing to become one.
Rachel pointed at her.
"She smiled at me."
"She's working on it," I said.
May you like
"That counts," Rachel said firmly.
"That absolutely counts."
