Chapter 7 - The Unravelling
With Patricia sitting in a county jail cell unable to post her $100,000 bail, Derek’s entire world disintegrated over the next forty-eight hours.
Without his mother’s fraudulent notary stamp and her illegal business account to hide behind, Derek was completely exposed. The state prosecutor’s office served him with an indictment for third-degree felony identity theft and grand larceny related to the three personal lines of credit he had taken out in my name.
Unable to return to my house and barred from entering his mother’s seized townhome, Derek was forced to check into a cheap motel on the highway edge of town.
On Sunday afternoon, while Lily was playing happily in the backyard with Dad, constructing a wooden birdhouse on the patio, my phone rang.
It was Derek.
I answered the call and put it on speaker so Dad could hear.
"Claire..." Derek’s voice was completely broken. Gone was the cocky tone, the smirking arrogance, and the aggressive posturing. He sounded exhausted, defeated, and panicked. "Please... my lawyer says I’m looking at three to five years in state prison if this goes to trial."
"You should have thought about that before you forged my name, Derek," I said coldly.
"I’ll sign the divorce papers!" he pleaded, his voice cracking into desperate sobs. "I’ll sign whatever you want! I’ll sign away all rights to the house, I’ll sign over full custody of Lily, I’ll waive any claim to spousal support! Just tell the prosecutor to reduce the charges so I don't go to prison!"
Dad stepped over to the phone, leaning down slightly toward the speaker.
"You don't get to bargain, Derek," Dad said, his voice deep and resolute. "You are going to sign full custody over to Claire. You are going to sign an irrevocable quitclaim deed surrendering every inch of equity in her home. And then you are going to face the judge for what you did to your family."
"Richard... please..." Derek whimpered.
"You told me on Saturday night that controlling a paycheck made you the man of the house," Dad reminded him ruthlessly. "Now you’re going to learn what actual accountability feels like. Do not call my daughter’s phone ever again. All future communications will be handled through the county jail visitor portal."
Dad tapped the red button on the screen, ending the call.
I took a long, deep breath of the cool afternoon air. The birdhouse sat on the wooden table, smelling of fresh pine and wood glue. Across the lawn, Lily was laughing, her hands covered in harmless yellow paint as she decorated the roof.
May you like
"He's never going to hurt us again, is he, Dad?" I asked quietly.
Dad pulled me into a tight, warm side-hug, resting his chin on the top of my head just like he used to when I was a little girl. "Never again, Claire. Not while I’m breathing."
