Chapter 8 - The Arrival on the Driveway
I let the phone ring out, watching the screen flash with his name until it went dark. Then it buzzed a second time. And a third.
I stood up, walked over to the couch, and checked on Chloe. Her forehead felt cool to the touch; the fever had finally broken, leaving her skin damp and relaxed in deep sleep. I kissed her cheek softly, grabbed the master bedroom safe key, and walked down the hallway to the back bedroom.
Using the secondary biometric override I had installed years ago, the heavy steel door of the wall safe swung open silently. Inside sat Aunt Ellen’s original, un-tampered deed from four years before I ever met George, along with my military service commendations and a separate file containing copies of George's initial pre-nuptial financial disclosures—disclosures where he had lied about his personal debts.
As I tucked the documents into a leather folio, a pair of bright, piercing headlights swept across the bedroom window.
The sound of tires crunching aggressively over the gravel driveway echoed through the quiet night air.
A car door slammed shut with a furious bang.
Footsteps pounded up the front porch stairs, followed by an angry, frantic rattling of the front doorknob.
"Lucy! Open this door right now!" George’s voice screamed through the wood, high-pitched and vibrating with panic. "What the hell do you think you're doing changing the locks? Open up!"
I walked slowly out of the bedroom, down the hall, and unlocked the front door, pulling it open just enough to stand in the threshold.
George stood on the porch, his clothes rumpled from the long drive, his face flushed red with rage and terror. Behind him in the driveway, his sedan sat idling at an awkward angle.
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"Where are my things?!" George yelled, pointing frantically toward the lawn where I had indeed tossed a duffel bag of his clothes earlier that afternoon. "Are you out of your mind? My mother called me screaming about police and financial audits—"
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