Chapter 5
Dad didn't open the door.
Neither did I.
Daniel kept pounding.
"Sarah!"
Emma was upstairs with Dad's housekeeper, Rosa.
I was grateful she couldn't hear him.
Maya stood beside me in the foyer.
"Do not engage."
The woman beside Daniel stepped toward the camera.
"My name is Patricia Sloan. I represent Mr. Harrington in the matter of his minor child."
My stomach dropped.
"Minor child?"
Maya's jaw tightened.
Daniel had hired a custody lawyer in less than twenty-four hours.
Patricia continued.
"We are serving notice of an emergency petition."
Maya opened the door only after confirming the papers could be handed to her without Daniel entering the property.
Daniel tried to step forward.
Dad blocked him.
"Stay outside."
"This is my wife."
"Not for long."
Daniel's face hardened.
"You're enjoying this."
Dad didn't answer.
Maya took the envelope.
Patricia spoke calmly.
"Mr. Harrington is asking the court to order the immediate return of Emma Harrington to the marital residence pending a temporary custody hearing."
I nearly laughed.
"The marital residence?"
Daniel looked at me.
"Our daughter belongs at home."
"You mean the apartment you haven't slept in for three nights a week for the last six months?"
He blinked.
I saw it.
A tiny reaction.
Maya saw it too.
"Interesting," she said.
Daniel glared at me.
"Don't start inventing things."
"I'm not."
He had been staying late at work constantly.
Sometimes he said he slept at his parents' house because meetings ran late.
I had believed him.
Suddenly, I wondered what else I had believed.
Patricia cleared her throat.
"The petition also raises concerns about Mrs. Harrington's emotional stability."
Dad made a sound of disgust.
I felt heat flood my face.
"What?"
Daniel spoke quickly.
"You've been stressed for months."
"Because you've been lying to me."
"You cry constantly."
"My mother died three years ago."
"You've had anxiety."
"I had grief."
"You told me once you were afraid you weren't a good mother."
My heart stopped.
That conversation had happened at two in the morning.
Emma had pneumonia.
I had been awake for almost forty-eight hours.
I had cried in Daniel's arms and admitted I felt like I was failing.
He had kissed my forehead.
He had told me I was the best mother he knew.
Now he was turning that vulnerable moment into evidence against me.
I stared at him.
"You're using that?"
Something shifted in his face.
For a second, shame appeared.
Then disappeared.
"I'm protecting Emma."
Maya stepped between us.
"This conversation is over."
Patricia nodded.
"We'll see you in court."
Daniel pointed toward the house.
"I want to see my daughter."
"No," I said.
His eyes snapped toward me.
"Excuse me?"
"She watched your mother hit me."
"That wasn't me."
"You defended her."
"I'm Emma's father."
"And right now she is afraid."
His expression softened.
"Let me talk to her."
For one dangerous second, I almost agreed.
Then I remembered the voicemail.
Don't punish her because you're angry.
Every sentence he used was designed to make me doubt myself.
"No."
Daniel's face changed.
"You can't keep her from me."
"The court can decide temporary contact."
"Sarah."
"Leave."
He stared at me for several seconds.
Then he leaned closer.
"You have no idea what you're doing."
Maybe I didn't.
But for once, uncertainty didn't send me running back to him.
"I know exactly what I'm not doing."
"What?"
"I'm not coming home."
Dad closed the door.
My legs nearly gave out.
Maya caught my arm.
"Sit down."
I sat on the bottom stair.
The papers shook in my hands.
"What if he wins?"
"He won't simply win because he filed first."
"What if he takes Emma?"
"We have the police report, medical records, financial evidence, his messages, and a child witness to violence."
"His mother hit me. Not him."
"But his response matters."
I covered my face.
"I don't want Emma dragged through court."
"Neither do I."
"What happens now?"
"We prepare."
That afternoon became a blur.
Maya asked me dozens of questions.
Who handled Emma's doctors?
Me.
Who attended preschool conferences?
Me.
Who arranged childcare?
Me.
Who knew her allergies?
Me.
Who stayed home when she was sick?
Usually me.
Who paid household expenses?
Mostly Daniel, from our joint account.
Except when Maya examined the account, she frowned.
"There are large withdrawals."
My stomach tightened.
"How large?"
"Seven thousand here. Nine thousand there."
"For what?"
"I don't know."
I didn't recognize the destinations.
One transfer went to an account labeled CRESCENT CONSULTING.
Another went to a luxury apartment building downtown.
I stared at the screen.
"Why would Daniel pay an apartment building?"
Maya asked quietly, "Did he rent another apartment?"
"No."
At least, I didn't think so.
Dad entered with coffee.
I turned the laptop toward him.
He recognized the building.
"That's on North Wabash."
"Do you know it?"
"High-end rentals."
My mouth went dry.
I opened Daniel's credit card statements.
Restaurant charges.
Hotel bars.
Ride-share trips.
Flowers.
Not flowers sent to me.
My hands began shaking.
Maya touched my wrist.
"We don't know what this means yet."
I did.
Maybe not legally.
But emotionally, I knew.
I remembered the nights Daniel said he had meetings.
The showers he took immediately after coming home.
The phone he kept facedown.
The password he changed six months ago.
I felt stupid.
Then angry for feeling stupid.
He had lied.
That didn't make me foolish for trusting my husband.
Another document appeared in the financial download.
A lease.
Daniel Harrington.
Unit 1807.
Twelve-month term.
My vision blurred.
Someone else was listed as an authorized resident.
Natalie Price.
I whispered the name.
Maya searched it.
Within seconds, a company profile appeared.
Natalie Price.
Director of Marketing.
Harrington Development.
I laughed.
Of course.
There had to be another betrayal.
This family apparently collected them.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Daniel.
Please let me see Emma tonight. Whatever happens between us, I love her.
For once, the message didn't move me.
Then another appeared.
And don't let your father convince you that those bank records mean what he says they mean.
I stared at the screen.
He didn't know we had found the lease.
I typed a response.
Then deleted it.
Maya was right.
Silence was safer.
An hour later, Melissa called again.
Her voice was urgent.
"Sarah, I forgot something."
"What?"
"The recording I sent you isn't the worst one."
My stomach tightened.
"There's another?"
"Yes."
"Of Daniel?"
A pause.
"Daniel and Natalie."
I closed my eyes.
Melissa whispered, "They were talking about you."
"What did they say?"
May you like
Her answer made every hair on my arms rise.
"They said once the money was transferred, you wouldn't matter anymore."