Chapter 10 - Poppy
Deline had not kidnapped her daughter.
That mattered.
Peter and Deline were still married.
No custody order existed.
She had every legal right to leave with Poppy.
But nobody knew where they were.
And Poppy had not gone to school.
Peter stood in the flower shop surrounded by half-packed Christmas arrangements.
Employees whispered near the coolers.
A delivery driver waited by the door.
December music played quietly from a speaker.
The normality made everything worse.
“What did she take?” Callum asked.
“Business records.”
Peter rubbed his face.
“Her passport.”
“Poppy’s?”
“I don’t know.”
I walked into Deline’s office.
One drawer hung open.
A photograph of Poppy sat beside the computer monitor.
I looked at it.
She was seven, like Renley.
Two little girls born four months apart.
Raised almost like sisters.
They were the reason I had tolerated so much.
I wanted Renley to have what I had not.
A cousin nearby.
A crowded family.
Belonging.
Instead, I had taught her that belonging sometimes meant enduring people who hurt you.
I would carry that lesson differently now.
Peter’s phone rang.
Deline.
He answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
Her voice was sharp.
“I’m fine.”
“Where is Poppy?”
“With me.”
“Put her on.”
“No.”
Peter’s face changed.
“Deline.”
“I need everyone to stop panicking.”
“You took our daughter out of school.”
“Because my family has decided to destroy her future.”
Her voice became louder.
“I am fixing this.”
Callum stepped closer to the phone.
“How?”
Silence.
Then Deline laughed.
“There he is.”
“Where are you?”
“You turned against me.”
“I told the truth.”
“You gave them documents.”
“I gave them my documents.”
“You owe me.”
“No.”
His voice did not shake this time.
“I don’t.”
Deline went silent.
Then she said something that changed Peter’s expression.
“I’m going to sell what belongs to me.”
Peter grabbed the phone.
“What does that mean?”
Deline disconnected.
We searched the office.
Peter found a missing binder.
Inside it had been documents relating to the cabin.
Samuel called within twenty minutes.
He had received an alert from Graham’s attorney.
Someone had contacted a real estate broker about an emergency cash sale of the cabin.
Margaret had signed the listing authorization.
Graham had not.
The property required both signatures.
The sale could not proceed cleanly.
But Deline was trying.
Callum stared at his phone.
“She’s not running away.”
“No,” I said.
“She’s raising cash.”
Peter looked sick.
“For Victor?”
“Maybe.”
I thought of Deline’s voicemail.
You had no right to interfere with my business.
No right.
That was always her language.
Rights belonged to her.
Responsibilities belonged to everyone else.
Then Peter opened a desk drawer.
Under a stack of vendor invoices was a sealed envelope.
My name was written across the front.
I opened it.
Inside was a copy of a life insurance policy.
Callum was the insured person.
Deline was not the beneficiary.
Neither was I.
The policy had been assigned as collateral.
I looked at Callum.
He looked just as confused as I felt.
Peter whispered, “I’ve never seen that before.”
At the bottom of the page was Victor Hale’s company name.
May you like
And suddenly Deline’s debt was no longer tied only to property.
It was tied to my husband’s life.
