Chapter 2
I lugged several big trash bags downstairs and tossed them into the neighborhood dumpster.
When I got back, my neighbor, Ryan Lewis, knocked on my door.
He stood in the doorway, holding a plate of steaming pasta.
"I noticed your place was quiet all afternoon, so I figured you probably hadn't eaten yet," he said.
Ryan was my neighbor growing up, and now he was a lawyer.
He was the only one who knew anything about the mess my family was in.
I let him in and took the plate of pasta.
The steam made my eyes sting. "Thanks."
Ryan glanced around the empty living room, his brow furrowing. "Where's John?"
"I sent him away," I replied calmly.
Ryan paused, then it clicked for him, worry flickering in his eyes.
He didn't press. Instead, he pointed at my phone. "You said you were 'divorced.' Something's not right here.
"If you didn't sign the divorce papers yourself, James might be guilty of forgery.
"This isn't simply a family dispute anymore."
His words were like a key, unlocking something in my tangled thoughts.
I couldn't let it go.
Why should I be stuck at home cleaning up the mess while James and Victoria were out there living it up on my money?
I was going to get to the bottom of how the divorce happened.
*****
Meanwhile, in a luxury villa on the outskirts of town
Victoria pinched her nose, staring with revulsion at the mess on the floor.
The expensive rug was stained and ruined, filthy beyond repair.
John squirmed in his wheelchair, groaning and mumbling helplessly.
He'd lost control of his bladder and bowels.
"Useless old geezer!" Victoria screamed, backing away like she'd seen a monster.
She shouted at the maid, "What are you staring at? Hurry up and drag him away.
"Lock him in the storage room. Don't let him mess up my house."
The maid, trembling with fear, pushed the wheelchair toward the dark storage room.
Then she slammed the door shut and locked it.
Victoria pulled out her phone in irritation. Staring at the blocked call log, she flew into a rage and hurled the phone hard onto the couch.
She was reaping the bitter consequences of letting trouble into her house.
*****
Meanwhile, after finishing the pasta Ryan brought, I felt a little strength return to my body.
I wiped my mouth and stared out at the night.
My fighting spirit was slowly rekindling.
*****
Early the next morning, I headed straight to the courthouse.
Ryan's reminder gave me clear direction. I needed to file a request to access the divorce file from over a month ago.
The clerk at the counter was a young woman. After I explained, she replied in a rehearsed tone, "Sorry, but those files are private. You can't look them up without proper authorization."
"I'm the one involved." I slid my ID card across the counter. "The system says I'm divorced, but I never came here. I think someone forged my signature to push the divorce through."
My tone was calm and firm, without a trace of emotion.
The woman was thrown off by how firm I was. After a moment's hesitation, she went to check with her supervisor.
A few minutes later, they let me look at the file, though only under their watchful eyes.
I opened the file envelope and found my name on the divorce agreement: Lily Summers.
The handwriting was almost identical to mine, a perfect fake.
But only I knew: I always paused for a split second at the end of my signature.
This signature, though, was smooth all the way through.
It was a forgery.
Suddenly, a memory flashed through my mind.
About half a year ago, James had mailed me a stack of documents from the military, saying there was some housing benefit and he needed me to sign a few "letters of intent" so he could apply.
I hadn't suspected a thing back then and signed my name at the bottom of several blank sheets of paper.
Turned out, the trap was set way back then.
Now, his elaborate scheming had paid off.
My heart dropped, a cold chill creeping up from my toes.
Suddenly, my phone buzzed with a text. [Lily, you're fired. Don't bother coming in tomorrow.]
It was from the owner of the neighborhood supermarket.
I'd worked as a cashier there for two years to help support my household.
I called him back right away.
His voice was heavy with awkwardness. "It's not that I don't want to help, but someone higher up told me to let you go. I can't do anything about it."
Higher up? That could only be Victoria.
She was pulling strings, trying to push me into a dead end.
The next few days proved it.
I tried every gig I could find: waitressing, sales, even passing out flyers.
Not a single place would take me.
The owners looked at me with either sympathy or fear in their eyes.
Victoria's influence around here was way bigger than I'd thought.
She wanted to leave me with nowhere to turn, to starve out on the streets.
I felt neither discouraged nor consumed by rage.
The more she tried to crush me, the clearer my mind got.
I went home and locked myself in my room.
I pulled out all the ledgers from the past five years. I'd kept precise records of every sum sent to James and every expense for this household.
I was going to turn every bit of it into a knife and stab it back at James and Victoria.
*****
Meanwhile, John, locked away in the storage room, was living a nightmare.
The maid would only leave a dry slice of bread at the door each day, not bothering to give him any water.
The storage room was cold and damp. His bedsores started flaring up, leaving him in so much pain he couldn't sleep at all.
Tormented by hunger and illness, his muddled mind couldn't stop dwelling on how good Lily had been to him.
He missed the hot meals she always brought to his bedside on time.
He missed her patient hands, turning him over and cleaning him up without complaint.
He missed the warmth of her pushing him out for walks in the sunshine.
He fumbled around and pulled an old phone from his pocket.
It was one I'd passed down to him to help him pass the time.
With trembling hands, he pressed the power button.
The screen flickered on for a moment, then went dark again. The battery was dead.
Despair swallowed him whole.
*****
After sorting through all the accounts, I made up my mind.
I couldn't stay in this place any longer.
I needed to find somewhere with room and board to get back on my feet first.
As long as I stayed alive, there would always be a way forward.
I opened a job site and set my sights on a high-end domestic staffing agency.
First, I had to survive. Then, I'd settle the score with James and Victoria.