Chapter 2 - THE DOCUMENTS
“Mark, what the hell are you talking about?”
Rebecca turned on him.
“Stay out of this.”
Mark ignored her.
“Daniel, we need to talk privately.”
“No.”
I took Emily’s hand.
“We talk right here.”
Guests near the back pews were beginning to turn around.
Whispers spread through the chapel.
Rebecca lowered her voice.
“You’re humiliating me.”
I stared at her.
“My daughter thinks I’m sending her away forever.”
“That is not what’s happening.”
“Then explain the note.”
Rebecca folded her arms.
“It was badly worded.”
“Badly worded?”
Emily pressed herself against my side.
Rebecca sighed.
“She has behavioral issues.”
I actually thought I had misheard her.
“What?”
“She’s anxious.”
“She lost her mother.”
“She has tantrums.”
“She’s seven.”
“She ruins every adult moment we have.”
The chapel went quiet enough that I heard someone gasp.
Rebecca realized how loudly she had spoken.
Her face changed.
She softened her expression.
“Daniel, I love Emily.”
Emily whispered beside me.
“No, you don’t.”
Rebecca’s eyes snapped down to her.
I stepped between them.
“Mark.”
He approached.
“What documents?”
Mark rubbed the back of his neck.
“Three days ago, Rebecca brought me paperwork.”
Rebecca cut in.
“That was confidential.”
“I represent Daniel.”
“You represent our family.”
“No,” Mark said.
“I represent Daniel.”
That distinction hit Rebecca hard.
I watched her face.
“What paperwork?”
Mark hesitated.
Then he pulled a folded envelope from inside his suit jacket.
“Temporary residential placement.”
My blood went cold.
“For Emily?”
He nodded.
Rebecca spoke quickly.
“It’s a therapeutic school.”
“Where?”
No answer.
“Where, Rebecca?”
“Vermont.”
I stared at her.
We lived outside Philadelphia.
“That’s six hours away.”
“It’s one of the best programs on the East Coast.”
“For what?”
Rebecca looked frustrated.
“Daniel, she needs structure.”
Emily’s breathing changed.
Fast.
Shallow.
I knelt beside her.
“You’re not going anywhere.”
Rebecca rolled her eyes.
It was tiny.
Almost nothing.
But I saw it.
And something inside me shifted.
Mark handed me the envelope.
Inside was an application.
Emily’s name.
Her birth date.
Our address.
My income.
My insurance.
There were pages describing aggression.
Severe emotional instability.
Dangerous attachment behavior.
I looked at Mark.
“This is fake.”
He nodded slowly.
“I suspected that.”
Rebecca laughed once.
“Of course you did.”
I kept reading.
Then I reached the signature page.
My name was printed at the bottom.
Under it was a signature.
It looked like mine.
Almost.
“What is this?”
Rebecca said nothing.
Mark answered.
“A forged consent form.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“You forged my signature?”
“I didn’t.”
“Then who did?”
Rebecca looked toward her sister.
Diane stood near the back of the chapel.
She was holding her phone.
Recording us.
“Stop filming,” I said.
Diane smiled.
“You’re having an emotional episode, Daniel.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
Rebecca reached for my arm.
“Listen to me.”
I stepped away.
She whispered.
“If you destroy this wedding, you’re going to regret it.”
“What does that mean?”
She leaned closer.
“It means Emily’s placement has already been paid for.”
My heart slammed once.
“By who?”
Rebecca looked directly at me.
“By your father.”
I froze.
My father had been dead for three years.
Then Mark whispered:
“Daniel, there’s something else in the envelope.”
I looked down.
At the bottom was a photocopy of a trust document.
Sarah’s trust.
Emily’s trust.
May you like
And beside Rebecca’s name was a line that made my hands shake.
Proposed Co-Trustee Upon Marriage.
