Chapter 6 - The Incapacity Petition
Maya obtained a copy within two hours.
Nathan and my mother intended to claim I was emotionally unstable.
According to the draft petition, my discovery of Nathan’s affair had triggered “increasingly irrational and paranoid behavior.”
They planned to cite my appearance at the jewelry store as proof.
I laughed when I read that part.
Nathan had assaulted me in public.
And somehow they planned to present me as the dangerous one.
“They’ll say you provoked him,” Maya said.
“They’ll lose.”
“Eventually.”
That word mattered.
Eventually.
They didn’t need to win permanently.
They needed an emergency order lasting long enough to freeze my trust when Friday arrived.
Maya pointed to the petition.
“They have a psychiatrist prepared to state that you’ve shown signs of delusional thinking.”
“I’ve never met this psychiatrist.”
“That won’t stop them from trying.”
The doctor’s name was Malcolm Reeves.
Daniel searched him.
Within minutes, we found donations from Dr. Reeves to three charities controlled by my mother.
Then we found consulting payments.
One hundred eighty thousand dollars over four years.
Everything connected back to Eleanor.
My mother.
My phone rang.
This time I answered.
“Emma.”
Her voice was calm.
“You need to come home.”
“You keep saying that.”
“You are behaving recklessly.”
“Nathan hit me.”
A pause.
“He was under tremendous pressure.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
No outrage.
No concern.
An excuse.
“You knew about Celeste.”
Another pause.
“Celeste is complicated.”
“You knew about the transfer document.”
Silence.
That silence answered me.
I continued.
“Did you know Dad survived the crash?”
The line went completely still.
For the first time in my life, I heard my mother lose control of her breathing.
“Who told you that?”
Not what are you talking about?
Not your father is dead.
Who told you.
I felt something inside me break cleanly.
“You knew.”
“Emma, listen to me carefully.”
“No.”
“Your father was not the man you believe he was.”
“Then tell me what he was.”
“He was going to destroy this family.”
I gripped the phone.
“By surviving?”
“By taking what belonged to all of us and giving you control before you were ready.”
My eyes opened.
There was anger in her voice now.
Not grief.
Not fear.
Ownership.
“Friday was never supposed to happen,” she said.
Then she realized what she had admitted.
But it was too late.
Maya had recorded the entire call.
I whispered, “Thank you, Mom.”
“For what?”
“For finally telling the truth.”
I ended the call.
Five minutes later, Daniel received an alert from one of his sources.
A private jet registered to a Carlisle subsidiary had filed a flight plan.
New York to Burlington, Vermont.
Passenger manifest unavailable.
Departure time was that evening.
May you like
My mother was going to Vermont.
And I knew exactly who she was going there to find.
