She had spoken to a lawyer six weeks earlier and told no one, not even David. The lawyer, a composed woman named Patrice Bell, had listened while Emily explained the inheritance from her father, the down payment on the house, the property investments Daniel liked to describe as his financial foresight though the initial capital had come from her side. Patrice had taken notes and said, “Do not confront him until you understand what you’re entitled to.”
Emily had felt ashamed then, as if preparing to protect herself was a betrayal.
Tonight, shame looked different. Tonight, shame belonged to the man wearing cologne for Vanessa.
She picked up her phone and called her younger brother.
David answered on the fourth ring, his voice thick with sleep or television. “Em?”
“Are you awake?”
