Chapter 7 · The Wife Who Waited

Michael's eyes went wide.

"But if you don't," I said, standing up, "I'll give Mr. Parker Olivia's voice message, the keycard records, and the evidence about you switching your shoes."

He sat on the couch, shaking all over. "Emily, what do you want from me?"

I looked at him. "You know exactly what I want."

After a long silence, he finally spoke, "Go on."

"Transfer the houses, cars, savings, and shares to me. Walk away with nothing."

"Emily—"

"That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

He slumped on the couch, like a fish that's been gutted.

I turned and walked back to the bedroom. "Give me your answer by tomorrow."

The door closed behind me. I leaned against the door, closing my eyes. My heart was racing. But my hands were steady.

The next morning, Linda showed up. She didn't come alone. She brought Margaret along, plus a man I'd never met.

The guy looked to be in his forties, wearing a well-tailored suit and holding a cigarette between his fingers.

"This is our family lawyer, Robert Smith," Linda said.

I glanced at the man. "Please have a seat."

The four of us sat down in my living room. I poured some coffee and sat across from them.

Margaret walked in with a scowl, but kept her mouth shut.

Linda cleared her throat. "Emily, Michael told me you want him to walk away with nothing."

"That's right," I replied.

"That's impossible."

"Then there's nothing left to talk about," I said, picking up my cup.

"You..." Linda's face changed.

Robert spoke up, his tone calm and unhurried. "Ms. Foster, so you know, that postnuptial agreement might not hold up in court. If this gets messy, you probably won't get everything you want."

"Oh, really?" I set my cup down. "Well, we'll see about that in court."

"Ms. Foster, what I'm trying to say is—"

"Mr. Smith," I cut him off, "do you realize what kind of mess your client is in right now?"

He paused, caught off guard.

"The police are looking into Olivia's case. Right now, your client Michael is their number one suspect."

Linda's face changed. Margaret's head snapped up.

Robert stiffened. "Ms. Foster, this is a separate issue from the property division."

"It's not a separate issue," I replied. "If Michael is indicted, all his assets will be frozen. You won't get a single dollar."

The living room went dead silent.

I kept going. "You have two choices. First, he cooperates with the transfer, and I testify to the police that he got home at eleven that night. I won't mention anything else.

"Second, if you refuse, I'll turn over everything I have: the keycard records, the evidence about him switching shoes, Olivia's last voice message, and the one-million-dollar accident insurance policy with Michael as the beneficiary."

I spelled it out for them, word by word.

Margaret's face went pale. Linda's lips were trembling. Robert's cigarette burned down to his fingers, but he didn't notice.

"Emily," Margaret's voice was rough as she suddenly spoke up, "you're threatening us."

"I'm not threatening you," I replied. "It's a negotiation."

"How can you do this? You're his wife."

"That's exactly why, as his wife," I locked eyes with her, "I have the right to decide whether I stand up for him or not."

Margaret's mouth hung open, but no words came out.

Linda turned to look at Robert.

Robert stubbed out his cigarette and sat there in silence for a long time. "Ms. Foster, give us three days to discuss this."

"Two days," I said. "I want the transfer documents by five o'clock the day after tomorrow. If you miss the deadline, I'll take everything to the police."

Nobody said a word.

I stood up, walked to the door, and opened it. "The coffee's gone cold. Don't bother seeing yourselves out."

The three of them headed out one by one. Margaret was the last to leave. When she passed by me, she stopped for a second.

I braced myself, thinking she'd lash out. But she didn't. She just looked at me. For once, her eyes weren't full of hate but fear.

The door closed. I went back to the living room and picked up my cup. My hand trembled a bit. But only for a second.

My phone rang. It was William. "Emily, I found something new about that house in Southside under Richard's name."

"What is it?" I asked.

"That house was used as collateral for a mortgage three months ago. They took out a loan of 270 thousand dollars."

"Who did it?"

"Michael. He used his father's ID and a power of attorney."

"Where did the 270 thousand dollars go?"

"It went into a personal account."

"Whose account?"

"Olivia's."

I stood by the window, holding my phone.

Three months before Olivia died, Michael had wired her 270 thousand dollars. With all the earlier transfers, it totaled at least 1 million dollars over six years.

And Olivia's one-million-dollar accident insurance had Michael listed as the beneficiary. Olivia, terrified of heights, "jumped" from the 22nd-floor balcony. The beneficiary happened to be the man who was there that night.

Michael, what did you do?

I closed the curtains and sat in the dark for a long time.

Then I picked up my phone and sent a message to James: [Mr. Parker, have you looked into Olivia's insurance policy yet?]

Three minutes later, he replied: [We're looking into it. Ms. Foster, would you be able to come by tomorrow? There are a few things we need to double-check.]

I replied: [Okay.]

I put my phone down and shut my eyes, thinking, 'Michael, when your two days are up, you better have signed those papers. If you don't, what's waiting for you is a lot worse than losing everything.'

Chapter 7

Michael's eyes went wide.

"But if you don't," I said, standing up, "I'll give Mr. Parker Olivia's voice message, the keycard records, and the evidence about you switching your shoes."

He sat on the couch, shaking all over. "Emily, what do you want from me?"

I looked at him. "You know exactly what I want."

After a long silence, he finally spoke, "Go on."

"Transfer the houses, cars, savings, and shares to me. Walk away with nothing."

"Emily—"

"That's the deal. Take it or leave it."

He slumped on the couch, like a fish that's been gutted.

I turned and walked back to the bedroom. "Give me your answer by tomorrow."

The door closed behind me. I leaned against the door, closing my eyes. My heart was racing. But my hands were steady.

The next morning, Linda showed up. She didn't come alone. She brought Margaret along, plus a man I'd never met.

The guy looked to be in his forties, wearing a well-tailored suit and holding a cigarette between his fingers.

"This is our family lawyer, Robert Smith," Linda said.

I glanced at the man. "Please have a seat."

The four of us sat down in my living room. I poured some coffee and sat across from them.

Margaret walked in with a scowl, but kept her mouth shut.

Linda cleared her throat. "Emily, Michael told me you want him to walk away with nothing."

"That's right," I replied.

"That's impossible."

"Then there's nothing left to talk about," I said, picking up my cup.

"You..." Linda's face changed.

Robert spoke up, his tone calm and unhurried. "Ms. Foster, so you know, that postnuptial agreement might not hold up in court. If this gets messy, you probably won't get everything you want."

"Oh, really?" I set my cup down. "Well, we'll see about that in court."

"Ms. Foster, what I'm trying to say is—"

"Mr. Smith," I cut him off, "do you realize what kind of mess your client is in right now?"

He paused, caught off guard.

"The police are looking into Olivia's case. Right now, your client Michael is their number one suspect."

Linda's face changed. Margaret's head snapped up.

Robert stiffened. "Ms. Foster, this is a separate issue from the property division."

"It's not a separate issue," I replied. "If Michael is indicted, all his assets will be frozen. You won't get a single dollar."

The living room went dead silent.

I kept going. "You have two choices. First, he cooperates with the transfer, and I testify to the police that he got home at eleven that night. I won't mention anything else.

I spelled it out for them, word by word.

Margaret's face went pale. Linda's lips were trembling. Robert's cigarette burned down to his fingers, but he didn't notice.

"Emily," Margaret's voice was rough as she suddenly spoke up, "you're threatening us."

"I'm not threatening you," I replied. "It's a negotiation."

"How can you do this? You're his wife."

"That's exactly why, as his wife," I locked eyes with her, "I have the right to decide whether I stand up for him or not."

Margaret's mouth hung open, but no words came out.

Linda turned to look at Robert.

Robert stubbed out his cigarette and sat there in silence for a long time. "Ms. Foster, give us three days to discuss this."

"Two days," I said. "I want the transfer documents by five o'clock the day after tomorrow. If you miss the deadline, I'll take everything to the police."

Nobody said a word.

I stood up, walked to the door, and opened it. "The coffee's gone cold. Don't bother seeing yourselves out."

The three of them headed out one by one. Margaret was the last to leave. When she passed by me, she stopped for a second.

I braced myself, thinking she'd lash out. But she didn't. She just looked at me. For once, her eyes weren't full of hate but fear.

The door closed. I went back to the living room and picked up my cup. My hand trembled a bit. But only for a second.

My phone rang. It was William. "Emily, I found something new about that house in Southside under Richard's name."

"What is it?" I asked.

"That house was used as collateral for a mortgage three months ago. They took out a loan of 270 thousand dollars."

"Who did it?"

"Michael. He used his father's ID and a power of attorney."

"Where did the 270 thousand dollars go?"

"It went into a personal account."

"Whose account?"

"Olivia's."

I stood by the window, holding my phone.

Three months before Olivia died, Michael had wired her 270 thousand dollars. With all the earlier transfers, it totaled at least 1 million dollars over six years.

Michael, what did you do?

I closed the curtains and sat in the dark for a long time.

Then I picked up my phone and sent a message to James: [Mr. Parker, have you looked into Olivia's insurance policy yet?]

Three minutes later, he replied: [We're looking into it. Ms. Foster, would you be able to come by tomorrow? There are a few things we need to double-check.]

I replied: [Okay.]

I put my phone down and shut my eyes, thinking, 'Michael, when your two days are up, you better have signed those papers. If you don't, what's waiting for you is a lot worse than losing everything.'