Chapter 2 - The Husband Who Wanted Me Declared Unstable
When I woke up after surgery, my sister was sitting beside my bed.
Not Chloe.
My older half sister, Rebecca Bellamy.
She was thirty-nine, wore a navy sweater, and looked as though she'd driven straight from the airport.
For several seconds, I thought I was dreaming.
“Rebecca?”
She stood.
“Hey, sweetheart.”
I tried to smile.
Pain stopped me.
Her expression changed.
“Don't move.”
I closed my eyes.
“How did you know?”
“Margaret called me.”
I opened them again.
“Grandma's lawyer?”
Rebecca nodded.
“She told me what happened.”
I looked toward the window.
The sky was dark.
“How long have I been here?”
“It's almost midnight.”
I tried to remember.
The brick.
The porch.
Ethan.
Chloe.
Then I remembered the blood.
My hand flew toward my face.
Rebecca gently caught my wrist.
“Easy.”
“Am I okay?”
“The doctor says surgery went as planned. They're monitoring you closely.”
I swallowed.
“Ethan?”
Her face hardened.
“He's been questioned by police.”
“Is he here?”
“No.”
“Victoria?”
“No.”
“Chloe?”
Rebecca hesitated.
“What?”
“She called me.”
My stomach tightened.
“What did she say?”
Rebecca looked furious.
“She wanted to know whether you'd signed anything before the ambulance arrived.”
I stared.
Then began laughing.
It hurt.
I stopped.
“Of course.”
Rebecca sat beside me.
“Emma.”
I looked at her.
“Grandma was right.”
Her eyes filled.
“About what?”
“Ethan.”
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then the door opened.
A woman in a charcoal blazer stepped inside.
She carried a leather briefcase and looked like she'd spent her entire evening arguing with someone important.
Margaret Ellis.
My grandmother's attorney.
She was sixty-one and had represented our family for almost thirty years.
She stopped beside the bed.
“Oh, Emma.”
I tried to smile.
“Hi, Margaret.”
She pulled out a chair.
“Before we discuss anything, I need to know what the doctors have told you.”
I explained.
The surgery.
The follow-up appointments.
The uncertainty surrounding recovery.
She listened carefully.
Then asked:
“Are you safe here?”
I nodded.
“Hospital security knows Ethan isn't allowed in.”
“Good.”
She opened her briefcase.
“I received a letter from his attorney this afternoon.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“He's claiming you became violent during a marital disagreement.”
I stared.
“Of course he is.”
“He's also suggesting you're experiencing emotional difficulties related to your grandmother's death.”
I looked at Rebecca.
She closed her eyes.
Margaret continued.
“He has requested that all significant estate transactions be postponed until your capacity can supposedly be evaluated.”
I almost laughed.
“He hit me with a brick.”
“Yes.”
“And now he's saying I'm incompetent?”
“That appears to be the argument he's attempting.”
I stared at the ceiling.
For months, Ethan had told people I wasn't handling Grandma's death well.
He'd complained that I was forgetful.
Distracted.
Unreasonable.
When I objected to his spending, he called it paranoia.
When I asked about Chloe, he said grief had made me suspicious.
Now I understood.
He had been preparing this story long before the brick.
Margaret leaned forward.
“Emma, I want you to understand something.”
I looked at her.
“Your grandmother's inheritance doesn't disappear because your husband makes allegations about you.”
I exhaled.
“We'll verify the documents, protect your legal interests, and address any disputed transactions through the proper process.”
I nodded.
Then remembered.
“The safe.”
Margaret's expression changed.
“Yes.”
“Have you opened it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Your grandmother left instructions.”
I stared.
“What instructions?”
Margaret opened another folder.
Inside was a letter.
My grandmother's handwriting.
For Emma, when she is ready.
I stopped breathing.
Margaret continued.
“Your grandmother asked me to hold this letter until you requested access to the private safe.”
I stared.
“Why didn't she tell me?”
“She hoped you'd have time to discover everything gradually.”
Rebecca looked confused.
“Discover what?”
Margaret hesitated.
“Your grandmother believed someone inside Bellamy Restoration Group was stealing from the company.”
My heart began pounding.
“Who?”
“She suspected Ethan.”
I stared at her.
Grandma had been dead eight months.
For eight months, I'd been sitting across the dinner table from a man she believed was stealing from us.
Margaret continued.
“She asked an independent accountant to begin reviewing certain transactions.”
“Did they find anything?”
“Some discrepancies.”
“How much?”
“Potentially millions.”
I closed my eyes.
Then opened them.
“Where are the records?”
Margaret looked down at the letter.
“Possibly inside the safe.”
Rebecca leaned forward.
“Then open it.”
Margaret shook her head.
“We need Emma's authorization and the proper procedure.”
I looked at her.
“You have it.”
She nodded.
“Then we'll arrange it.”
A knock came.
Detective Alicia Warren entered.
She was in her early forties, with short dark hair and a calm expression.
“Mrs. Carter?”
“Yes.”
“I'm Detective Warren.”
I looked at Margaret.
She nodded reassuringly.
Warren pulled up a chair.
“Would you feel comfortable answering a few questions?”
I said yes.
She explained that several witnesses had provided recordings.
Investigators had also collected evidence at the scene.
“Your husband has made a statement.”
I stared.
“What did he say?”
“He claims he acted in self-defense.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
Warren continued.
“We're examining the physical evidence and witness accounts.”
I nodded.
Then she asked:
“Did he threaten you before the assault?”
I looked at Margaret.
Then back at the detective.
“Yes.”
“What did he say?”
“He told me I wouldn't leave until I signed the papers.”
Warren wrote that down.
I continued.
“He wanted my inheritance.”
May you like
Then I looked at Margaret.
“And I think my grandmother knew he would try.”
