Chapter 2
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Noah cried from the living room.
The sound seemed impossibly loud in the silence.
Linda stared at the papers in Ethan’s hand.
Then she lunged for them.
“Give those back.”
Ethan stepped away.
“No.”
His voice was quiet.
That scared me more than if he had shouted.
Linda stopped.
“Those are private.”
“My wife’s name is on them.”
“They don’t concern you.”
Ethan laughed once.
There was no humor in it.
“My wife’s house being transferred to you doesn’t concern me?”
Linda’s face tightened.
I pressed one hand against the counter because my knees suddenly felt weak.
“What does it say?”
Ethan looked down.
His eyes moved rapidly over the page.
Then he looked at me.
“Emily, did you sign a quitclaim deed?”
My stomach dropped.
“A what?”
Linda immediately spoke.
“She signed several documents after the birth. She was tired. She probably doesn’t remember.”
I stared at her.
“I signed hospital papers.”
“And insurance paperwork,” Linda said quickly.
“And some household documents Ethan left.”
Ethan turned toward her.
“I didn’t leave any household documents.”
Linda’s mouth closed.
Noah cried again.
I pushed away from the counter.
“I need my baby.”
Linda stepped into my path out of habit.
Ethan’s head snapped toward her.
“Move.”
She moved.
I walked into the living room as quickly as my sore body allowed.
Noah’s tiny face was red from crying.
The second I lifted him, his little hands curled against my shirt.
I pressed him against my chest.
“I’m here.”
My voice broke.
“I’m here, baby.”
Behind me, pages rustled.
Ethan followed me into the room.
His face had gone pale.
“This document says Emily transferred the house to you three days ago.”
Linda folded her arms.
“She wanted security for the family.”
“I never signed that,” I said.
Linda looked at me.
“Yes, you did.”
“No.”
“You’ve barely slept.”
“I would remember giving away my house.”
“You don’t remember half the things you say lately.”
The cruelty of that sentence hit me hard.
Because Linda had been saying versions of it for days.
You’re confused.
You’re hormonal.
You’re emotional.
You’re exhausted.
I had started questioning myself.
Ethan looked between us.
“What exactly are you saying, Mom?”
Linda gave him a patient smile.
“The baby has made Emily unstable.”
I felt Noah shift against me.
Something inside me hardened.
“Stop calling me unstable.”
“I’m concerned about you.”
“You pulled my hair.”
Linda rolled her eyes.
“I touched your hair.”
“You threatened to throw me out.”
“I said if you were unhappy, perhaps you should stay somewhere else.”
“You told me this wasn’t my home.”
“You’re twisting my words again.”
Ethan held up the document.
“Enough.”
Linda flinched.
He turned to me.
“Did anyone bring papers for you to sign since you came home?”
I tried to think.
My days had become a blur of feeding, crying, pain, medication, and two-hour stretches of sleep.
Then I remembered.
“Last Tuesday.”
Linda’s face changed.
Ethan saw it.
“What happened last Tuesday?”
I looked at her.
“You brought a man here.”
“He was a notary.”
“I thought he was from the insurance company.”
Linda’s jaw tightened.
“You knew exactly what he was.”
“No, I didn’t.”
I remembered sitting at the kitchen table.
Noah had been crying.
My stitches hurt.
Linda had placed papers in front of me.
“Just sign where the yellow stickers are,” she had said.
I had asked what they were.
“Ethan’s insurance.”
I felt sick.
“Linda told me they were insurance forms.”
Ethan stared at his mother.
“Tell me she’s lying.”
Linda said nothing.
“Tell me.”
“I was protecting you.”
“From what?”
“From her.”
I actually stopped breathing.
Ethan looked stunned.
Linda pointed at me.
“She inherited this house before you married her.”
I clutched Noah tighter.
The house had belonged to my grandmother.
When she died, she left it to me.
Ethan and I had moved in after our wedding.
Linda had hated that from the beginning.
She always called it Emily’s house.
Never your home.
Never Ethan’s home.
Emily’s house.
Like the words tasted bitter.
Linda continued.
“If Emily wakes up one morning and decides she doesn’t want you anymore, you leave with nothing.”
Ethan stared at her.
“So you forged a property transfer?”
“I didn’t forge anything.”
“You lied to her about what she was signing.”
“She signed voluntarily.”
“Ten days after giving birth.”
“Three days after,” I whispered.
Ethan looked at me.
“What?”
“The document says three days ago. Noah was seven days old.”
I remembered that day now.
I had a fever.
I had barely been able to sit upright.
Linda had taken Noah from my arms and told me she would hold him while I signed.
Then she kept bouncing him every time he cried.
Hurrying me.
Distracting me.
My entire body went cold.
“You used Noah.”
Linda blinked.
“What?”
“You held him while I signed.”
“That’s ridiculous.”
“You knew I wanted him back.”
“You’re making this sound sinister.”
“It was sinister.”
Ethan started reading again.
Then his expression changed.
“Wait.”
“What?” I asked.
“There’s another page.”
Linda moved quickly.
“Ethan.”
He turned away from her.
She grabbed his arm.
“Give me the papers.”
He pulled free.
“Don’t touch me.”
I had never heard him speak to his mother that way.
Linda looked shocked.
Ethan read silently.
Then he lifted his eyes.
“This isn’t just the house.”
My heart began pounding.
“What else?”
He handed me the paper.
I could barely understand the legal language.
But I recognized one thing immediately.
Noah’s name.
“What is this?”
Ethan pointed to a paragraph.
“It looks like a temporary guardianship authorization.”
The room tilted.
I held Noah closer.
“No.”
Linda exhaled sharply.
“It’s only for emergencies.”
“Why is your name there?”
“Because someone needs to be responsible if Emily becomes incapable.”
Ethan stared at her.
“Why would Emily become incapable?”
Linda didn’t answer.
A horrible thought entered my mind.
I looked at the medicine bottle sitting on the end table.
The pain pills my doctor prescribed.
Linda had been bringing them to me.
Every morning.
Every evening.
Sometimes telling me I had forgotten a dose.
My mouth went dry.
“Ethan.”
He followed my stare.
“What?”
“My medication.”
Linda’s face changed again.
Just slightly.
But I saw it.
Ethan saw it too.
He walked to the table and picked up the bottle.
“How many are you supposed to take?”
“One every six hours if needed.”
He counted them.
“How many have you taken today?”
“Two.”
Linda interrupted.
“She took three.”
I stared at her.
“No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No.”
“You took one after breakfast.”
“I didn’t eat breakfast.”
Linda’s mouth closed.
Ethan looked at the bottle.
Then at his mother.
“Why are you keeping track of Emily’s pills?”
“I’m helping.”
“Stop saying that.”
His voice suddenly exploded through the room.
Noah startled.
I immediately rocked him.
Ethan lowered his voice.
“Sorry.”
Linda’s eyes filled with tears.
Not frightened tears.
Angry tears.
After years around her, I knew the difference.
“I gave up everything for you,” she whispered.
Ethan stared at her.
“Don’t.”
“I raised you alone.”
“Don’t use that now.”
“Your father walked out. I worked two jobs. I went without food.”
“I know.”
“And now this woman turns you against me in ten days?”
I felt like she had slapped me again.
Ethan’s face became cold.
“Emily didn’t do this.”
He lifted the papers.
“You did.”
Linda’s expression twisted.
“You have no idea what she’s planning.”
I stared at her.
“What am I planning?”
She smiled strangely.
“You really don’t know?”
Ethan stepped closer.
“Know what?”
Linda looked at me.
Then she said the sentence that changed everything.
“Ask your wife why she met with a divorce attorney two weeks before Noah was born.”
Ethan slowly turned toward me.
May you like
I froze.
Because that part was true.
