Chapter 5 - The PetitionI opened the door.
Not because I trusted Daniel.
Because I needed answers.
He stood on the porch looking like he hadn’t slept.
His shirt was wrinkled.
There were dark circles under his eyes.
For a second, I remembered the man I had married.
Then I remembered his signature on the custody petition.
“Kitchen,” I said.
He stepped inside.
“Is Mia asleep?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see her?”
“No.”
He nodded.
No argument.
That surprised me.
We sat across from each other at the kitchen table.
The petition lay between us.
“Start talking.”
Daniel looked at it.
“I found that copy in Vanessa’s office this afternoon.”
“You were in her office?”
“I went there after I left the school.”
“Why did you leave the school?”
“She told me Leah was going to meet us.”
“Us?”
“She said Leah wanted to make a deal.”
“And you believed her.”
“I wanted this finished.”
“You keep making catastrophic decisions because you want uncomfortable things to finish.”
His face tightened.
I didn’t apologize.
“Why were you helping Vanessa with Leah’s money?”
“She came to me four months ago and said she was starting a real estate investment company.”
“Vanessa sells luxury homes. Why did she need you?”
“She said she had a development opportunity.”
“What opportunity?”
“A small apartment complex outside town.”
“Did it exist?”
“Yes. The property exists.”
“The deal?”
He looked down.
“I’m not sure.”
I leaned back.
“Wonderful.”
“Emma.”
“Keep going.”
“Leah had recently received money from selling her parents’ house. Vanessa knew that.”
“How?”
“They stayed in touch after Leah worked for Dad.”
“And Vanessa convinced her to invest.”
“Yes.”
“Then used your account.”
“Yes.”
“Then eighty-five thousand dollars disappeared.”
“Yes.”
“And now Vanessa is filing fake custody petitions.”
“Yes.”
He looked sick saying it.
I tapped the paperwork.
“How?”
“My electronic signature is saved on a family legal account.”
I stared at him.
“You have a family legal account?”
“My father set it up years ago for estate documents and business filings.”
“And Vanessa has access.”
“Apparently.”
“That may be the most Cole-family sentence I’ve ever heard.”
“I know.”
“No, I don’t think you do.”
I pushed the petition toward him.
“This says I leave Mia unattended.”
“I know.”
“It says I drink excessively.”
“I know.”
“I barely drink at all.”
“I know.”
“It says Mia is afraid of me.”
“I know.”
My voice broke.
“Then why is your name on it?”
Daniel covered his face for a moment.
“When I found it, I thought I was going to be sick.”
“You should be.”
“I called the attorney listed on the filing.”
“And?”
“He said Vanessa contacted the office pretending to coordinate for me.”
“Did he ever speak to you?”
“No.”
“Then how did this get filed?”
“He received documents electronically.”
“That’s insane.”
“He says the petition hasn’t gone before a judge yet. I told him to withdraw it immediately.”
“Not good enough.”
“I know.”
“I want written proof.”
“You’ll have it.”
“And I’m getting my own attorney.”
“You should.”
“And until I understand what happened, Mia stays with me.”
His eyes lifted.
“That means missing my weekend.”
“Yes.”
“Emma—”
I stood up.
“Do not.”
He stopped.
“Today your sister attacked our daughter while apparently trying to manufacture evidence against me. You knew Vanessa had questioned Mia about Leah, yet you brought her to the school anyway. You lied to me about being there. And someone used your signature to accuse me of being a dangerous mother.”
“I’m not defending any of it.”
“Good.”
“I’m asking you not to believe I wanted this.”
I looked at him.
“I don’t know what you wanted anymore.”
That hurt him.
I saw it.
Part of me was glad.
Then Mia’s bedroom door opened.
We both turned.
She stood in the hallway wearing purple pajamas.
“Daddy?”
Daniel froze.
“Hey, bug.”
She didn’t run to him.
That was new.
She just stood there.
“Why didn’t you help me?”
His face collapsed.
“I didn’t know Aunt Vanessa was going to hurt you.”
“You left.”
“Yes.”
“Because of the lady?”
Daniel looked at me.
I said nothing.
He had created this.
He could answer.
“Yes.”
“Was she mad?”
“Yes.”
“Because you stole her money?”
Daniel flinched.
“No, sweetheart. I didn’t steal her money.”
“Aunt Vanessa said you could go to jail.”
He went still.
I felt my hands curl into fists.
“When did she say that?” I asked.
“Last weekend.”
“What else did she say?”
Mia looked nervous.
Daniel stood.
“Come here.”
She hesitated.
Then walked slowly toward him.
He knelt.
“I need you to tell Mommy everything Aunt Vanessa told you. You’re not going to get me in trouble. Okay?”
Mia studied his face.
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
She swallowed.
“She said the police might take you away if I talked about the fight.”
Daniel closed his eyes.
“She said Mommy would be happy if that happened.”
“What?” I whispered.
Mia turned toward me.
“I told her you wouldn’t.”
“Of course I wouldn’t.”
“She said you hate Daddy.”
I crouched beside her.
“I don’t hate your dad.”
Daniel looked at me.
I continued.
“We don’t live together anymore, but that doesn’t mean I want bad things to happen to him.”
Mia nodded.
Then she said, “Aunt Vanessa said if I wanted Daddy to stay, I had to help.”
A horrible silence settled over the kitchen.
“Help how?” Daniel asked.
“She told me to say I was scared at Mommy’s house.”
I felt as if the floor moved.
Daniel went pale.
“What?”
“She practiced it with me.”
My throat closed.
“What did she tell you to say?”
Mia’s eyes filled with tears.
“That you leave me alone at night.”
I reached for her.
“I never leave you alone.”
“I know.”
She started crying.
“I told Aunt Vanessa it was lying.”
Daniel stood abruptly and turned away.
He pressed both hands against the counter.
“What else?”
“She said sometimes lying protects families.”
I looked at the petition.
The exact allegation sat on page three.
Mia being left alone at night.
Vanessa hadn’t invented it from nothing.
She had tried to plant it in Mia first.
My phone was already in my hand.
“What are you doing?” Daniel asked.
“Calling my lawyer.”
“At seven at night?”
“I’m calling everyone.”
Mia grabbed my shirt.
“Am I in trouble?”
I dropped the phone onto the table and hugged her.
“No. Never.”
“I didn’t say what she told me.”
“That was brave.”
“She got mad.”
Daniel turned around.
“What did she do?”
“She squeezed my arm.”
His eyes changed.
“Show me.”
Mia pulled up her pajama sleeve.
There, near her elbow, was a faint yellowing bruise.
I had seen it two days ago.
She told me she hit a table.
“Mia.”
“I’m sorry.”
“No.”
I fought to keep my voice steady.
“You never have to be sorry for telling me something.”
Daniel crouched again.
“Did Aunt Vanessa tell you to say you hit the table?”
Mia nodded.
He stood so fast the chair fell backward.
“I’m going to kill her.”
“No, you’re not.”
I grabbed his arm.
“Do you understand? That is exactly what she wants. People angry. People reacting.”
He breathed hard.
“You’re right.”
“Sit down.”
He didn’t.
But he didn’t leave either.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I thought it was Leah again.
It wasn’t.
“Mrs. Emma Hayes?”
“Yes?”
“This is Detective Sarah Nolan with the county financial crimes unit.”
Daniel’s face changed when I mouthed the word detective.
“I’m calling regarding Vanessa Cole.”
I put the phone on speaker.
“What about her?”
“We understand there was an incident involving your daughter this afternoon.”
“Yes.”
“And we’ve been informed your daughter may have overheard a conversation relevant to an active investigation.”
Daniel sat down.
I looked at Mia.
“She’s eight.”
“I understand. We would handle any interview through the proper child-advocacy process.”
“What investigation?”
The detective paused.
“I can’t discuss every detail by phone.”
Of course.
“But I can tell you this is no longer only about Ms. Mercer’s eighty-five thousand dollars.”
Daniel slowly raised his eyes to mine.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“We have reason to believe there may be additional victims.”
“How many?”
“We don’t know yet.”
I heard papers moving on the detective’s end.
“Mrs. Hayes, has Vanessa Cole ever asked you to invest money with her?”
“No.”
“Has she ever had access to your banking information?”
“No.”
Then I remembered something.
My stomach dropped.
“Wait.”
Daniel looked at me.
“What?”
I stood and walked toward the small desk beside the living room.
Three years earlier, when Daniel and I were still married, Vanessa had helped us refinance the house through one of her “preferred contacts.”
She had collected paperwork.
Tax returns.
Account statements.
Social Security numbers.
I turned back.
“She had copies.”
Daniel stood.
“Copies of what?”
“Everything.”
The detective’s voice sharpened.
“What exactly did she have?”
“Our refinance documents.”
“When?”
“Three years ago.”
There was a pause.
Then the detective said, “I need you to check your credit reports tonight.”
A chill ran down my spine.
“Why?”
“We found something during a records search.”
“What?”
“I shouldn’t disclose an unverified finding over the phone.”
“Detective.”
Another pause.
Then she said carefully, “There appears to be a business account associated with your Social Security number.”
I stopped breathing.
“I don’t own a business.”
“That’s why I’m calling.”
Daniel stared at me.
The detective continued.
“The account was opened fourteen months ago.”
Fourteen months.
I did the math.
My divorce from Daniel had been final sixteen months ago.
“What is the business called?”
“I can’t confirm ownership until we complete verification.”
“Please.”
She hesitated.
Then gave me the name.
My knees almost gave out.
Because I had seen it before.
Not on bank records.
Not on a business card.
On the custody petition sitting on my kitchen table.
The company Vanessa claimed had reviewed my finances and found me irresponsible.
May you like
Crownstone Family Consulting.
The same company that might secretly be registered using my identity.
