Chapter 5 - THEIR PLAN FOR ME
I played the recording three times.
Not because I couldn’t understand it.
Because I could.
Every word.
Lorraine had planned to make me look unstable.
Andrew had discussed moving money.
My signature had appeared on documents I had never signed.
The cast-iron pot no longer felt like one angry moment.
It felt like escalation.
At 9:10, I called Rebecca Sloan.
She answered on the second ring.
“Claire?”
“I have audio.”
“What kind of audio?”
I played her thirty seconds.
Rebecca went silent.
Then she said,
“Do not contact Andrew.”
“He’s already texting.”
“Do not answer.”
I looked at my screen.
Seventeen messages.
CLAIRE PLEASE.
THIS IS NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE.
MOM WAS JUST TALKING.
MELISSA IS MANIPULATING YOU.
CALL ME.
Then the tone changed.
YOU CANNOT KEEP ME OUT OF MY OWN HOUSE.
Finally,
IF YOU DESTROY MY CAREER OVER THIS, YOU’LL REGRET IT.
Rebecca heard me exhale.
“What happened?”
“He just threatened me.”
“Screenshot everything.”
I did.
“Claire, I want you somewhere safe tonight.”
“I’m staying here.”
“Then lock everything and call police if he returns.”
I almost told her I wasn’t afraid.
But that would have been a lie.
At 10:03, headlights swept across the living room wall.
Andrew.
He parked outside.
I didn’t open the door.
He knocked.
“Claire!”
I stood ten feet back.
“Leave.”
“We need to talk.”
“Talk to my lawyer.”
“Open the damn door.”
“No.”
His fist struck the wood.
“Claire!”
I called 911.
The dispatcher kept me on the line.
Andrew continued knocking.
Then stopped.
For a moment, I thought he had left.
Then I heard glass break behind the house.
I ran toward the kitchen.
The small window beside the back door had shattered.
Andrew reached through and tried to unlock it.
I screamed,
“Get your hand out of my house!”
He froze.
I held my phone up.
“The police are coming.”
His expression changed.
Not rage.
Panic.
“Claire, I just need something from inside.”
“What?”
He looked toward the stairs.
“The green folder.”
Every alarm in my body went off.
“Why?”
“It has work documents in it.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“Claire.”
“Leave.”
He pulled his arm back.
Sirens sounded in the distance.
Andrew ran toward his car.
He was gone before officers arrived.
But he had made one mistake.
The kitchen security camera recorded everything.
By midnight, I had a police report.
Photographs.
Threatening messages.
Video of Andrew trying to enter through a broken window.
A recording discussing fraud.
And the forged application.
I should have felt safer.
Instead, something kept bothering me.
Why did he need the green folder so badly?
I opened it again.
The deed was there.
Bank records.
The notarized agreement.
Then I noticed something.
One page was missing.
A document I remembered placing inside only months earlier.
My grandmother’s trust amendment.
The page that explained what would happen to another property I inherited if I died.
I searched the entire bedroom.
Nothing.
May you like
Then I remembered Lorraine standing near the cabinet that morning.
And suddenly, the pot wasn’t the scariest thing she had carried out of my bedroom.
