Chapter 11 - THE PERSON WHO STAMPED IT
Nora gave the sealed envelope to the investigator.
I didn’t get to watch it being opened.
I didn’t get to demand answers immediately.
Waiting was harder than I expected.
Every hour felt like Jake getting ahead of me.
Maya reminded me that an unanswered question wasn’t the same as a lost case.
At work, I wore light makeup and returned to the front desk.
People tried not to stare.
One patient asked if I’d been in a car accident.
I said, “No.”
She looked embarrassed.
So did I.
Then the appointment phone rang and I answered it.
For ten minutes, I was simply Rachel from the dental office again.
I needed those ten minutes.
After work, I met a counselor the hospital had referred me to.
I told her I felt stupid.
She asked why.
“Because I kept staying.”
“What did you think would happen if you left?”
I listed the things Jake had told me.
Nobody would want me.
I couldn’t afford the house alone.
His parents would make my life miserable.
He would ruin my job.
Some of those threats had become real.
That made the others harder to dismiss.
She let me finish.
Then she asked, “What did you do after he hurt you?”
“I saved the recording.”
“What else?”
“I left.”
“What else?”
“I told someone.”
I stared at her.
She wasn’t congratulating me.
She was making me hear my own actions.
That night, Maya called with an update.
The notary acknowledged she hadn’t watched me sign the transfer document.
She had accepted the paperwork from Don after he said I was recovering from an illness and unable to come in.
There were records contradicting her original account of when and where the signing occurred.
The envelope contained a letter Don wanted her to sign.
It described me as confused.
It claimed I had authorized everything.
She hadn’t signed it.
Instead, she contacted the investigator.
“Will she tell the truth?” I asked.
“She’s cooperating now,” Maya said. “That matters. We’ll see where it leads.”
After the call, I stood at Claire’s window.
Across the street, a dark pickup sat beneath a tree.
Jake’s truck was dark.
Plenty of trucks were dark.
I took a photograph without opening the door.
Then my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
One message.
You were prettier when you knew when to shut up.
May you like
The pickup’s headlights came on.
And instead of driving away, it turned into Claire’s driveway.
