house.
We’ll handle this through the divorce attorneys.”
He still believed volume could restore his authority.
For years, it had worked.
He would raise his voice, accuse me of overreacting, and wait until I apologized for creating tension.
That afternoon, however, every sharp command only made his fear more visible.
I rested one hand over my stomach.
The baby shifted beneath my palm.
“This house belonged to my mother,” I said.
“She left it to me before we married.
You knew it was not marital property.”
“I paid bills here.”
“You paid part of the utilities.”
“I renovated the basement.”
“With money from our joint account.”
His jaw tightened.
Brittany looked around the living room as if the walls had changed color.
A few minutes earlier, she had stood beneath my family photographs like a woman inspecting her new home.
Now she seemed to understand that Jason might never have owned so much as the front doormat.
“What happened to the loan money?” she asked.
Jason did not answer.
Dana removed another document from her briefcase and placed it beside the forged deed.
It was a bank transfer summary showing that more than two hundred thousand dollars had been released after the fraudulent mortgage was approved.
A portion had paid Jason’s private credit cards.
Another portion had gone to a company formed only four months earlier.
Brittany’s full name appeared beneath the company title.
She stared at the page.
“That was for our investment property.”
The word our landed heavily in the room.
Linda closed her eyes.
Ron looked at his son with open disgust, though he had arrived ready to help throw his pregnant daughter-in-law out of her own house.
Dana slid a photograph from the file.
It showed Jason and Brittany standing outside a newly renovated townhouse.
Jason held a bottle of champagne.
Brittany held a set of keys.
The image had been taken from the property manager’s public social media account.
“The townhouse was purchased using funds secured by Natalie’s house,” Dana said.
“Title was placed in Brittany Cole’s name.”
Brittany’s face drained.
“Jason said the money came from selling stock.”
“It did not.”
She turned on him.
“You put this in my name?”
“Because we were building a future,” he said through clenched teeth.
“You told me it was clean.”
Jason caught her wrist.
“Don’t start.”
She winced.
Marcus watched the movement carefully.
Dana did too.
“Let go of her,” I said.
Jason looked at me as if he could not believe I had spoken.
“Now.”
He released Brittany.
She stepped away from him and rubbed the red marks forming beneath her bracelet.
The confidence she had carried into my house was gone.
I did not feel sympathy for the choices she had made, but I recognized the expression on her face.
It was the look of someone realizing that Jason’s promises were simply tools he used until they stopped being useful.
Dana turned to Linda.
“Mrs.
Miller, the bank also has security footage of you depositing forty-eight thousand dollars from the loan proceeds into an account you share with your husband.”
Linda’s hand struck the mug.
It fell to the hardwood floor and shattered.
Coffee spread through the white rug while Mia jumped against me.
I lifted her into my arms.
My back protested, and
