Chapter 3

When we got home, I placed Dad’s framed photograph on the dining table.

Daniel came in behind me. He removed the suit jacket with blue frosting on the cuff and draped it over a chair.

That had always been our pattern.

He put things down.

I picked them up.

This time, I left the jacket where it was.

Lily went upstairs. Her bedroom door slammed a few seconds later.

“Give her some space,” Daniel said. “She needs time to process this.”

“You need to pack.”

He stared at me.

“What?”

“I want you out tonight.”

“This is my house too.”

“You have a seven-year-old son you hid from me.”

“Noah’s existence does not make our entire marriage a lie.”

“Seven years of choosing not to tell me does.”

“I knew you would react like this.”

“Then don’t explain.”

I went into the home office, pulled our document box from the cabinet and photographed our marriage certificate, latest tax return and joint-account information. Then I gathered my passport, Dad’s records and my freelance contracts.

Daniel followed me.

“What are you doing?”

“Collecting what belongs to me.”

I opened the recording app on my phone.

“Return every key you have to the lake house.”

Daniel noticed the red light.

“Are you recording me?”

“The keys.”

“Sophie’s lease is ending,” he said. “The house is empty. They could stay there for a few months.”

“When were you planning to tell me?”

“When you were stable enough to listen.”

“Was my father’s death part of your schedule?”

His face hardened.

“Don’t make me sound like I was waiting for him to die.”

“The key disappeared after he entered hospice.”

“I was planning ahead.”

“With my inheritance?”

“With my son’s housing.”

A door opened upstairs.

Lily stood at the top of the staircase.

“You used Grandpa’s property to house your other child,” she said. “What else did you give him?”

Daniel turned toward her.

“This has nothing to do with you.”

“How does it have nothing to do with me?”

“Sophie chose to come today. I didn’t bring them.”

“So now it’s her fault?” I asked.

He said nothing.

I stopped the recording.

Then I found the family-law attorney Tessa had recommended during her own property dispute.

I need your earliest appointment tomorrow, I wrote.

My phone rang.

It was Howard, Dad’s estate attorney.

“I don’t think we should delay the reading of your father’s will,” he said. “Tomorrow at ten. Come alone.”

Daniel stepped closer.

“Who is that?”

I turned away from him.

Howard paused before continuing.

“There is something you should know before tomorrow. Your father changed his will three months ago.”

Three months earlier, Dad had already begun drifting in and out of consciousness. Some mornings he couldn’t remember his nurse’s name, but he always remembered to ask whether I had eaten.

“Why did he change it?”

“Before he gave me the instructions, Robert had a private conversation with Daniel.”

I looked at my husband.

For the first time that day, real fear appeared on his face.

Howard continued.

“The following morning, your father asked me to remove Daniel from every part of his estate plan.”