Chapter 6 · 72 Hours To Destroy His Plans

By the time I walked out of the coffee shop, it was almost noon.

I drove home, my head full of thoughts the entire way.

Seventy-two hours. Only three days.

I'd never felt this kind of pressure from time before.

Back then, every day felt like a copy-paste of the last. I'd wake up, cook, drop Daphne off, and run errands.

And I'd cook again, pick Daphne up, cook some more, put her to bed, and then wait for David to come home, or sometimes, he wouldn't. Then I'd finally go to sleep myself.

Day after day, year after year, I thought that was how life was supposed to be.

But now I realized that wasn't living at all. It was a slow death.

When I got home, I headed straight for the study.

Next to the desk sat a gray metal filing cabinet with three drawers.

The top drawer was filled with important papers like the property deed and insurance policies.

I pulled the drawer open.

The insurance policies were there.

The property deed...

I rifled through the papers, but it was missing.

The property deed was gone.

My heart started pounding.

David must've already taken the property deed.

Was he already changing the name on it?

I took a deep breath, telling myself not to panic.

I kept looking.

Daphne's birth certificate was there. My Driver's license was there.

But the marriage certificate...

I tore through the drawer, searching every inch. But it wasn't there.

I checked the second and third drawers too. Still nothing.

I pulled everything out of the filing cabinet and went through each paper one by one. Still found nothing.

The marriage certificate was gone.

I knelt on the study floor, surrounded by scattered papers.

The marriage certificate was gone, and so was the property deed.

David had already made his move, and he'd done it sooner than I'd expected.

I pulled out my phone and texted Rachel. [The marriage certificate is gone. So is the property deed.]

Rachel replied instantly. [Don't panic. You can get a new marriage certificate at the courthouse. The property deed is more urgent. Go to the Registry of Deeds first thing tomorrow.]

Just as I was about to text back, my eyes landed on the trash can by the desk.

I spotted a bunch of torn-up paper scraps inside.

Almost on instinct, I reached over and pulled the trash can closer.

I dumped the scraps onto the floor and started piecing them together, one by one.

When I picked up the third piece, my hand froze.

It looked familiar. I kept piecing them together, my hands trembling.

With every scrap I fit, the picture got clearer.

These weren't random bits of paper. They were scorched, half-burned pieces.

The edges were blackened and curled, but right in the middle, I could still make out a few words: [Rebecca Wolf], [David Wolf], [Marriage Certificate.]

He burned the marriage certificate.

He burned our marriage certificate.

I knelt on the floor, gripping those burnt fragments in my hands.

Sunlight poured in through the window, casting light on the charred edges, like a silent taunt.

Seven years of marriage.

He burned the symbol of our seven years of marriage in the trash can. He didn't even care to burn it completely.

I had no idea how long I stayed there, kneeling on the floor, maybe a minute, maybe ten, until my phone rang.

It was a message from Daphne's kindergarten teacher. [Mrs. Wolf, Daphne isn't feeling well today. Can you come pick her up?]

I checked the time. It was 1:15 PM.

Nearly four hours had already passed in the seventy-two-hour countdown.

I stood up and carefully put those charred pieces into a clear zip-lock bag.

Then I washed my face, changed my clothes, and left the house to pick up Daphne.

On the way, I sent Rachel a message. [The marriage certificate isn't lost. He burned it.]

When I picked up Daphne, her cheeks were bright red.

Her teacher said it was probably a regular cold, but suggested I take her to the hospital in case.

I carried Daphne out, her little body limp against my shoulder, her tiny hand clutching at my collar.

"Mommy, my head hurts," she mumbled.

"I know, sweetie. We'll go see the doctor, and you'll feel better soon." As I spoke, my mind was racing, trying to figure out what to do next.

I was supposed to go to the Registry of Deeds this afternoon to check on the property, but with Daphne sick, there was no way I could leave her.

Every minute of those seventy-two hours was ticking away, and I didn't have anyone to take care of Daphne for me.

My mom was back in my hometown, and if she hurried, she wouldn't get here until tomorrow at the earliest.

David?

Yeah, right.

Chapter 6

By the time I walked out of the coffee shop, it was almost noon.

I drove home, my head full of thoughts the entire way.

Seventy-two hours. Only three days.

I'd never felt this kind of pressure from time before.

Back then, every day felt like a copy-paste of the last. I'd wake up, cook, drop Daphne off, and run errands.

And I'd cook again, pick Daphne up, cook some more, put her to bed, and then wait for David to come home, or sometimes, he wouldn't. Then I'd finally go to sleep myself.

Day after day, year after year, I thought that was how life was supposed to be.

But now I realized that wasn't living at all. It was a slow death.

When I got home, I headed straight for the study.

Next to the desk sat a gray metal filing cabinet with three drawers.

The top drawer was filled with important papers like the property deed and insurance policies.

I pulled the drawer open.

The insurance policies were there.

The property deed...

I rifled through the papers, but it was missing.

The property deed was gone.

My heart started pounding.

David must've already taken the property deed.

Was he already changing the name on it?

I took a deep breath, telling myself not to panic.

I kept looking.

Daphne's birth certificate was there. My Driver's license was there.

But the marriage certificate...

I tore through the drawer, searching every inch. But it wasn't there.

I checked the second and third drawers too. Still nothing.

I pulled everything out of the filing cabinet and went through each paper one by one. Still found nothing.

The marriage certificate was gone.

I knelt on the study floor, surrounded by scattered papers.

The marriage certificate was gone, and so was the property deed.

David had already made his move, and he'd done it sooner than I'd expected.

I pulled out my phone and texted Rachel. [The marriage certificate is gone. So is the property deed.]

Rachel replied instantly. [Don't panic. You can get a new marriage certificate at the courthouse. The property deed is more urgent. Go to the Registry of Deeds first thing tomorrow.]

Just as I was about to text back, my eyes landed on the trash can by the desk.

I spotted a bunch of torn-up paper scraps inside.

Almost on instinct, I reached over and pulled the trash can closer.

I dumped the scraps onto the floor and started piecing them together, one by one.

When I picked up the third piece, my hand froze.

It looked familiar. I kept piecing them together, my hands trembling.

With every scrap I fit, the picture got clearer.

These weren't random bits of paper. They were scorched, half-burned pieces.

The edges were blackened and curled, but right in the middle, I could still make out a few words: [Rebecca Wolf], [David Wolf], [Marriage Certificate.]

He burned the marriage certificate.

He burned our marriage certificate.

I knelt on the floor, gripping those burnt fragments in my hands.

Sunlight poured in through the window, casting light on the charred edges, like a silent taunt.

Seven years of marriage.

He burned the symbol of our seven years of marriage in the trash can. He didn't even care to burn it completely.

I had no idea how long I stayed there, kneeling on the floor, maybe a minute, maybe ten, until my phone rang.

It was a message from Daphne's kindergarten teacher. [Mrs. Wolf, Daphne isn't feeling well today. Can you come pick her up?]

I checked the time. It was 1:15 PM.

Nearly four hours had already passed in the seventy-two-hour countdown.

I stood up and carefully put those charred pieces into a clear zip-lock bag.

Then I washed my face, changed my clothes, and left the house to pick up Daphne.

On the way, I sent Rachel a message. [The marriage certificate isn't lost. He burned it.]

When I picked up Daphne, her cheeks were bright red.

Her teacher said it was probably a regular cold, but suggested I take her to the hospital in case.

I carried Daphne out, her little body limp against my shoulder, her tiny hand clutching at my collar.

"Mommy, my head hurts," she mumbled.

"I know, sweetie. We'll go see the doctor, and you'll feel better soon." As I spoke, my mind was racing, trying to figure out what to do next.

I was supposed to go to the Registry of Deeds this afternoon to check on the property, but with Daphne sick, there was no way I could leave her.

Every minute of those seventy-two hours was ticking away, and I didn't have anyone to take care of Daphne for me.

My mom was back in my hometown, and if she hurried, she wouldn't get here until tomorrow at the earliest.

David?

Yeah, right.