Chapter 5 - PHASE THREE
We opened the folder at the police station.
The first page contained my photograph.
Not a wedding photograph.
A surveillance photograph.
I was leaving the law firm where I worked three years before meeting Dominic.
Below the picture were details about my salary.
My parents.
My grandmother’s estate.
My inheritance.
My previous relationships.
Even the coffee shop I visited every morning.
I stared at Chloe.
“This was before Dominic and I met.”
“Almost seven months before.”
I turned the page.
Another photograph showed me sitting outside the same coffee shop.
The date was circled.
Two weeks later, I had met Dominic there.
He had bumped into my table.
Spilled coffee.
Bought me another.
Made me laugh.
For years, I called it fate.
It had been surveillance.
The next page was labeled PHASE ONE.
INITIAL CONTACT.
Phase Two was labeled ISOLATION AND ASSET CONSOLIDATION.
My stomach twisted.
There were notes.
Encourage relocation.
Reduce sister contact.
Transition household bills.
Obtain account access.
Create dependency.
Then I reached Phase Three.
LEGAL INCAPACITY.
I looked up.
Chloe’s expression was hard.
“What does that mean?”
“We’re still determining that.”
I kept reading.
Document instability.
Medical evaluation.
Financial guardianship.
Emergency authority.
My hand began trembling.
Dominic hadn’t merely wanted to control me.
Someone had been building a paper trail to declare me incapable of controlling myself.
There were copies of emails I had never written.
Messages describing imaginary panic attacks.
Statements claiming I forgot appointments.
Reports saying I drank excessively.
I barely drank at all.
Then I saw a familiar name.
Dr. Samuel Ames.
The marriage counselor Victoria had insisted we see.
Chloe pointed to the payment column.
“He was receiving money from Bennett Strategic Holdings.”
“For counseling?”
“Not according to these records.”
I felt sick.
Every private confession I had made in that office suddenly felt contaminated.
At the back of the folder was a schedule.
Three dates had already passed.
The fourth was tomorrow.
Beside it were two words.
FINAL EVALUATION.
My phone rang before I could ask what that meant.
It was Dominic.
Or rather, the county detention facility.
Chloe nodded for me to answer on speaker.
Dominic’s voice came through calmly.
“Claire.”
I said nothing.
“You found the folder.”
Chloe’s eyes narrowed.
Dominic continued.
“My mother will tell you I planned everything.”
My pulse quickened.
“She’ll show you documents.”
He laughed softly.
“She’ll probably cry.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I’m telling you the only useful thing I’ve ever told you.”
His voice dropped.
“Do not trust Victoria.”
Then the call ended.
Chloe and I stared at each other.
Ten seconds later, her phone rang.
May you like
Victoria Bennett had just arrived at the police station voluntarily.
And she was asking to make a statement against her own son.
