Chapter 2
My blood was still ice cold when the detectives’ footsteps thudded up the stairs.
Eleanor’s smirk dropped so fast it was almost funny.
Her face went white. Then red. Then a sickly shade of gray.
“Nonsense,” she snapped, but her voice shook. “There’s been a mistake. I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The two detectives reached the landing. One was a woman with kind eyes and a no-nonsense stance. The other was a man with a briefcase so worn it looked like it held every secret in the city.
“Eleanor Voss?” the woman said.
Eleanor’s mouth opened and closed. No sound came out.
“I’m Detective Marquez. This is Detective Hale. You’re under arrest for twelve counts of wire fraud, embezzlement, and money laundering related to Hale Tech.”
My dad’s company.
The one I’d inherited. The one Eleanor had been stealing from for three years right under my nose.
“You have the wrong person,” Eleanor said. She reached for James, grabbing his arm so hard her knuckles turned white. “James, tell them. Tell them I’d never—”
James pulled his arm away.
He looked at her like he was seeing her for the first time.
“Mom,” he said. His voice was small. “What are they talking about?”
Detective Hale stepped forward. He flipped open his briefcase and pulled out a stack of papers thick enough to be a book.
“Bank records,” he said. “Transfer after transfer from Hale Tech accounts to shell companies you control. We’ve been building this case for six months. We have it all.”
Eleanor swayed.
She grabbed the stair rail to hold herself up. Her eyes darted to me.
For half a second, I saw pure, unadulterated fear.
Then it hardened back into hate.
“She set me up,” Eleanor spat, pointing one long nail right at my chest. “That little gold digger planted all of it. She’s been after my family’s money since the day she met James.”
I reached into my dress pocket.
I pulled out her phone.
The one with the messages. The voice note. The plan to steal my baby and my company.
“I don’t think so,” I said.
My voice was steady. Steadier than it had ever been in my life.
I held the phone out to Detective Marquez.
“This is Eleanor’s,” I said. “She left it in the bathroom. There are messages on here between her and her lawyer. They planned to fake a paternity test, frame me for cheating, take full custody of my son, and steal my dad’s company to sell it for a vineyard.”
Eleanor lunged for the phone.
Detective Hale stepped between us so fast she bounced off his chest.
“Easy,” he said. “That’s evidence now.”
James stared at me.
“Messages?” he said. “What messages?”
I pressed play on the voice note.
Eleanor’s voice filled the landing again. Cold. Calculating. Talking about stealing my baby like he was a piece of property.
James went pale.
He looked at his mom.
“You told me the texts were real,” he whispered. “You told me she cheated. You said I had to protect our family.”
Eleanor laughed. It was a sharp, ugly sound.
“Oh, grow up, James,” she said. “She was never good enough for you. She had all that money and she was just going to waste it. I was doing us a favor.”
Detective Marquez pulled out handcuffs.
“Eleanor Voss,” she said. “You have the right to remain silent.”
She clicked the cuffs around Eleanor’s wrists.
Eleanor screamed. She thrashed. She called me every name she could think of, her voice echoing off the walls as the detectives led her down the stairs.
The guests were still in the living room. I saw their faces through the railing. Shocked. Ashamed.
Lila looked up at me. She gave me a small, fierce nod.
James turned to me.
His eyes were red. Wet.
“Clara,” he said. He reached for me, then dropped his hand like he knew he had no right. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t know.”
I looked at him.
The man I’d married. The man who’d stood there and let his mother pour wine over my head. The man who’d said he didn’t know what to believe.
“Sorry doesn’t fix it,” I said.
“I know,” he said. He was crying now. Full, messy sobs. “I was weak. I was scared of her. She’s controlled me my whole life and I just— I let her. I’m so sorry.”
The front door slammed shut.
The detectives had taken Eleanor away.
I touched my belly. My son kicked hard, like he knew everything was changing.
“I’m moving out tonight,” I said.
James’s head snapped up.
“What? No. Clara, this is your house. I’ll go. I’ll stay in a hotel. Just don’t leave.”
“I can’t stay here,” I said. “Not after what happened in this house today. Every corner reminds me of what you let her do.”
I walked past him to the bedroom.
I grabbed my go bag, the one I’d packed for the hospital. I stuffed more clothes inside, my important papers, the few things that mattered.
Lila met me at the bottom of the stairs.
She didn’t say anything. She just took my bag, slung it over her shoulder, and wrapped one arm around me.
The guests were gone. The cake sat untouched on the table. The blue streamers hung limp, sad.
James stood in the middle of the living room.
He looked broken.
I almost felt bad.
Almost.
“Clara,” he called as we reached the door. “What do I do? How do I fix this?”
I didn’t turn around.
May you like
“First,” I said. “You figure out who you are without your mom telling you.”
Then I walked out.
