Chapter 13 - THE LAST ATTACK
Evelyn waited until the week the divorce was supposed to become final.
Then she made one last move.
She filed a civil claim.
Not against me.
Against Henry.
She alleged that Redwood Crest had been transferred improperly and that Garret possessed an equitable marital interest.
Henry’s attorney called Natalie.
Natalie called me.
I laughed.
“You’re laughing?”
“I’m tired.”
“That’s different.”
“What does she want?”
“Leverage.”
“For what?”
“She wants the investigation involving the deed dropped.”
“That’s not mine to drop.”
“Correct.”
“So this is pointless.”
“Legally?”
“Mostly.”
“Emotionally?”
“She wants you reacting.”
I looked at Maya.
She was six months old now.
She had discovered her feet.
Apparently, they were fascinating.
“Then she’ll be disappointed.”
I didn’t respond publicly.
Didn’t call Evelyn.
Didn’t contact Garret.
Henry’s attorneys filed their answer.
Then Garret did something nobody expected.
He submitted a sworn declaration against his mother’s claim.
He confirmed Redwood Crest had always been mine.
He confirmed he never contributed to the purchase.
He confirmed the prenup.
He confirmed the planned trust.
And he confirmed Evelyn knew the house was separate property.
The claim collapsed within weeks.
Evelyn called me the night it was dismissed.
I almost didn’t answer.
Then I decided I wanted to hear her once.
Only once.
“You turned my son against me.”
“No.”
“You poisoned him.”
“No.”
“He testified against his own mother.”
“He told the truth.”
“I was protecting him.”
“From what?”
“Losing everything.”
I looked around my new living room.
Maya slept upstairs.
Rain tapped gently against the windows.
For the first time, rain no longer made me think of Redwood Crest.
“Evelyn.”
“What?”
“Garret lost everything because you taught him that what belonged to other people should eventually belong to him.”
Silence.
“You taught him access meant ownership.”
“You taught him money meant entitlement.”
“And when he failed, you taught him someone else should pay.”
Her breathing sharpened.
“You think you’re better than us.”
“No.”
I paused.
“I think I’m done with you.”
Then I ended the call.
I blocked her number.
Not dramatically.
May you like
Not angrily.
Just permanently.
