Chapter 2 - The Signature
The hospital confirmed what I needed most.
My daughter was safe.
The doctor wanted me monitored overnight.
Adrian sat beside the bed.
He had not touched me since the mansion.
Not because he did not want to.
Because I had not invited him to.
Three weeks earlier, I had stopped trusting almost everyone in the Howard family.
Even him.
Especially him.
“You should sleep,” Adrian said.
“I can’t.”
He looked exhausted.
“I should have stopped Vanessa sooner.”
“You didn’t believe me sooner.”
He looked down.
That was true.
Vanessa had been part of Adrian’s life since childhood.
Their mothers were friends.
They attended the same schools.
For years, the Howard family assumed they would eventually marry.
Then Adrian met me.
Vanessa smiled at our wedding.
She sent flowers after my first miscarriage.
She threw my engagement party.
She called me sister.
And the entire time, she was waiting for the Howard family to decide I did not belong.
Three months earlier, Margaret asked me to sign a routine estate form.
She said it updated household succession records before the baby arrived.
I nearly signed without reading.
Then I noticed one line.
In the event Elena Howard becomes medically unable to exercise parental judgment, temporary family guardianship may be assigned according to the Howard Family Protection Agreement.
I asked Margaret what it meant.
She looked confused.
“Vanessa’s attorney prepared it.”
That was the first alarm.
Vanessa did not have an attorney involved in my marriage.
At least she shouldn’t have.
I took a photograph of the page before refusing to sign.
That evening, Adrian became irritated.
“My mother is trying to protect the baby.”
“From what?”
“Complications.”
“Then why is Vanessa involved?”
He did not have an answer.
Two days later, I found another document.
This one already contained Margaret’s signature.
It named Vanessa as temporary administrator of the Howard estate if Adrian and I were simultaneously incapacitated.
That was not unusual by itself.
What was unusual was the date.
The document had been signed six months earlier.
Before anyone knew I was pregnant.
And beneath it was a handwritten note.
Once the child exists, timing becomes critical.
I photographed that too.
Then I called Detective Ruiz.
Not because I thought Vanessa would push me down a staircase.
Not yet.
I called because Ruiz had already investigated a death connected to the Howard family.
May you like
A death everyone else called an accident.
Vanessa’s first fiancé.
