Chapter 6 - FORTY-EIGHT THOUSAND DOLLARS
By Sunday afternoon, I supposedly owed forty-eight thousand dollars to a lender I had never heard of.
The company was called Northlake Private Finance.
Laura found the loan while reviewing public filings connected to the attempted share transfer.
The lien had been recorded five months earlier.
Two weeks before Lily was born.
My signature appeared on every page.
My initials appeared beside every clause.
A photocopy of my driver’s license had been attached.
The address was mine.
The Social Security number was mine.
The bank account where the money had been deposited was not.
I sat at my mother’s kitchen table while Lily slept beside us.
Laura joined by video.
“Where did the money go?”
I asked.
“We are tracing it.”
“Whose account?”
“That’s what concerns me.”
I stared at her.
“Say it.”
“The receiving account belongs to Bennett Family Management LLC.”
Of course it did.
“Daniel?”
“Not directly.”
“Marianne?”
“No.”
“Robert?”
Laura shook her head.
“The registered owner is Daniel’s younger brother.”
I blinked.
“Eric?”
“Yes.”
Eric Bennett lived in Seattle.
He had been at Lily’s baptism.
He had hugged me.
He had given Lily a silver bracelet.
He had told me I looked beautiful.
“Does Eric know?”
“I don’t know.”
I called him.
Laura told me to wait.
I did not.
He answered cheerfully.
“Hey.”
“Eric.”
His tone changed immediately.
“Jen?”
“Do you own Bennett Family Management?”
Silence.
Laura closed her eyes.
Eric finally spoke.
“Why?”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Who told you?”
“Why does everyone in your family answer questions with questions?”
Another pause.
“Jen, I’m at the airport.”
“I don’t care.”
“I can call you later.”
“No.”
He sighed.
“What happened?”
“Forty-eight thousand dollars was borrowed in my name.”
The line went silent.
I continued.
“The money went to your company.”
More silence.
“Eric.”
His voice sounded different now.
“I didn’t know the loan was in your name.”
That was not a denial.
“You received the money?”
“Yes.”
My mother stared at me.
Laura leaned closer to her screen.
“Why?”
Eric lowered his voice.
“Daniel said it was an investment.”
“In what?”
“Dad’s expansion project.”
I frowned.
“What expansion?”
“You seriously don’t know?”
“No.”
He swore quietly.
Laura typed something.
“Eric, who asked you to create the company?”
“Mom.”
My stomach dropped.
“Marianne?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Last winter.”
“Why?”
“She said Dad needed a separate entity for a deal he was structuring.”
“Did Robert know?”
“I assumed he did.”
“That isn’t what I asked.”
“No.”
His answer came quieter.
“I never spoke to Dad about it.”
Laura raised one finger, signaling me to slow down.
I asked another question.
“Where did the forty-eight thousand go after it reached your account?”
Eric hesitated.
“Daniel gave me instructions.”
“What instructions?”
“I transferred it.”
“To whom?”
“I don’t remember.”
“You transferred forty-eight thousand dollars and don’t remember where?”
“I handle multiple accounts.”
“Look.”
“Jen.”
“Look.”
He exhaled.
I heard typing.
For thirty seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Eric stopped.
“Oh.”
That single syllable changed everything.
“What?”
He did not answer.
“Eric.”
“This can’t be right.”
“What?”
“The money went to CML Consulting.”
Laura and I looked at each other.
Chloe.
Again.
My mother whispered, “Jesus.”
I felt oddly calm.
“Every dollar?”
“Forty-five thousand.”
“Where did the other three go?”
“A filing fee and a transfer to Mom.”
Marianne.
“How much?”
“Twenty-five hundred.”
Laura typed faster.
I looked at Lily.
She slept through all of it.
Forty-eight thousand dollars in debt had been attached to her grandfather’s inheritance.
Forty-five thousand had ended up in the hands of my husband’s pregnant mistress.
And my mother-in-law had received part of the money for helping move it.
I asked Eric one more question.
“Did Daniel tell you what CML Consulting was?”
“No.”
“Did your mother?”
“No.”
“What did they tell you?”
“That it was a vendor.”
“For what?”
“Real estate consulting.”
Chloe was a dental hygienist.
I almost laughed.
Eric swore again.
“Jen, I didn’t know.”
I did not know whether to believe him.
Laura interrupted.
“Eric, this is Laura Evans.”
He went quiet.
“I represent Jennifer.”
“I figured.”
“Preserve every record you have.”
“I will.”
“Do not delete messages.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not call Daniel or Marianne before speaking with your own attorney.”
Silence.
That scared him.
“Do I need one?”
“Yes.”
He disconnected five minutes later.
I stared at Laura.
“What happens now?”
“Tomorrow morning we file.”
“Custody?”
“Custody, financial restraints, exclusive use of the marital home if appropriate, preservation orders, and disclosure.”
“Will he be arrested?”
“Not tomorrow.”
I nodded.
I had not asked because I wanted him arrested.
I had asked because I needed to understand what kind of life I was living.
Laura leaned closer.
“Jennifer, tonight you need to do something difficult.”
“What?”
“Assume he has access to everything.”
I frowned.
“Everything?”
“Email.”
“Changed.”
“Bank accounts.”
“Frozen.”
“Cloud storage.”
“Changed.”
“Phone carrier.”
I hesitated.
Daniel managed the family phone plan.
Laura noticed.
“Change it.”
I did.
“Security cameras?”
My mother and I looked at each other.
Our house had cameras.
Daniel had installed them.
I had never known the password.
Laura continued.
“Smart locks?”
Same problem.
“Home alarm?”
Daniel.
“Baby monitor?”
I felt suddenly sick.
Daniel had bought the monitor.
It connected through Wi-Fi.
It had an app.
I had assumed only I used it.
“Laura.”
“Yes?”
“He has access to the monitor.”
My mother went pale.
“Turn it off.”
I stood.
The monitor was in the diaper bag.
I switched off the parent unit.
Then I unplugged the camera.
My hands shook.
Laura spoke gently.
“Do not panic.”
“I’m not.”
But I was.
I remembered nights when I had cried beside Lily’s crib.
Nights when Daniel was supposedly working late.
Had he been watching?
Had Marianne?
Were those the moments they had documented?
I picked up my phone.
A notification appeared.
Unknown number.
I opened it.
There was a photograph.
Me.
Standing in Lily’s nursery.
Taken from above.
From the baby monitor.
The timestamp was two weeks after Lily was born.
I was crying.
Lily was in my arms.
Below the photograph was one sentence.
This is why you won’t keep her.
My mother saw it.
“Oh my God.”
Laura’s face hardened.
“Screenshot that immediately.”
Another message arrived.
A second photograph.
I was sitting on the floor beside the crib.
Exhausted.
My hair unwashed.
My face in my hands.
You already look unstable.
Then a third.
This one showed me asleep in the rocking chair.
Lily slept against my chest.
Courts care about safety.
I could not breathe.
My mother took the phone from me.
Laura said my name.
“Jennifer.”
I looked at the screen.
“Who has these?”
“We’re going to find out.”
Another message arrived.
This time there was no photograph.
May you like
Only six words.
Come home and this all stops.
