Chapter 4 - The Envelope Richard Left Behind
Three days later, I left the hospital.
Not with Garrett.
Dana arranged temporary accommodation in a private apartment owned by one of Rebecca’s colleagues.
The address was withheld from Garrett.
It was the first home I had entered in years where nobody else controlled the thermostat, the bank account, the locks, or my schedule.
The apartment was small.
I loved it instantly.
Maya slept beside me in a borrowed bassinet.
That first night, I watched her for hours.
Freedom did not feel triumphant.
It felt quiet.
Then morning came, and so did the key.
Margaret met Rebecca and me at an old commercial building Richard had owned downtown.
The fourth floor was supposedly vacant.
Margaret led us to an office hidden behind a records room.
The brass key opened it.
Inside was a desk.
A filing cabinet.
A computer.
And boxes.
Dozens of them.
Richard had built an archive.
Bank statements.
Corporate records.
Letters.
Photographs.
Audio files.
At the center of the desk was another envelope.
AUDREY.
Again.
Inside was a note.
If Garrett has forced your hand, do not let guilt force you back.
I sat down.
Richard had spent the final months of his life investigating his own children.
Garrett’s financial transfers.
Samantha’s expense accounts.
Shell companies.
Property acquisitions.
Loans made against assets they did not personally own.
But the most painful file was mine.
Richard had documented Garrett’s transfers from my money.
Every dollar.
Every account.
Every lie.
There was enough evidence for Rebecca to request an immediate financial freeze.
Garrett’s world was about to become very uncomfortable.
Then Margaret showed us the computer.
“There’s video.”
My skin prickled.
“Of what?”
“Richard.”
We opened the folder.
Dozens of recordings appeared.
Most were business notes.
Some were personal.
One was labeled:
IF AUDREY LEAVES GARRETT.
Rebecca and I looked at each other.
I clicked.
Richard appeared on screen.
He looked sick.
Older than I remembered.
But his voice was strong.
“Audrey, if you are seeing this, my son has finally given you reason enough to stop protecting him.”
I covered my mouth.
Richard continued.
“You may believe leaving will destroy the family. It will not. Garrett and Samantha have been destroying it for years. Leaving merely means you have stopped volunteering to be destroyed with it.”
I cried silently.
Then Richard leaned closer to the camera.
“There is something you need to know about the house.”
I frowned.
The Whitmore mansion?
The place Garrett called his birthright?
Richard explained.
Years earlier, tax and estate restructuring had placed the mansion into a family property trust.
After Richard’s death, occupancy rights would not automatically pass to Garrett.
The controlling trustee was Rebecca.
And Richard had amended the beneficiary terms.
The mansion would eventually pass into Maya’s trust.
Garrett had no ownership.
None.
He had spent years threatening to throw me out of a house that would one day belong to our daughter.
Rebecca almost smiled.
“He apparently never read the final amendment.”
I stared at the screen.
“What happens now?”
Rebecca answered.
“We tell him.”
But before we could, my phone rang.
Dana.
I answered.
Her voice was sharp.
“Audrey, where are you?”
“With Rebecca.”
“Garrett just filed an emergency petition.”
My stomach dropped.
“For what?”
“Temporary custody of Maya.”
The room went cold.
“On what grounds?”
Dana paused.
“He’s claiming you experienced an acute postpartum psychiatric episode at the funeral.”
Exactly what I had feared.
“He says the recording was evidence of paranoia and instability.”
I looked at Richard frozen on the computer screen.
“What happens?”
“We fight.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow morning.”
My heart pounded.
Dana continued.
“And Audrey?”
“Yes?”
“Garrett attached photographs.”
“What photographs?”
“Pictures of you collapsing at the funeral.”
Of course he had.
A woman bleeding after major surgery.
A crying newborn.
A public breakdown caused by cruelty.
And Garrett was going to turn those images into proof that I was dangerous.
I looked at Maya sleeping in her carrier.
Fear returned.
Then Richard’s recorded words echoed in my head.
Stop protecting him.
I looked at Rebecca.
“Copy everything.”
She understood immediately.
“All of it?”
“All of it.”
Because if Garrett wanted to convince a judge that I was unstable, I was going to show that judge exactly what had happened before I fell.
May you like
And this time, Garrett would not control the room.
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