Chapter 1 - THE SIGNATURE BEFORE THE DOCTOR
Donna snatched Megan’s car keys just as Megan reached the front hall with Lily in her arms.
“You leave after you sign.”
Lily was seven, flushed with fever and limp against Megan’s cream sweater, one cheek pressed against her mother’s shoulder.
Megan stopped.
“What?”
Donna closed her jeweled fist around the keys.
Behind her, Brian crossed the dining room and deliberately positioned himself in front of the locked front door.
He slid a deep-burgundy folder onto the stone table.
“Stop using her fever to make a scene.”
Megan stared at her husband.
Lily had been running a temperature since lunch.
An hour earlier, Megan had said she was taking her to pediatric urgent care.
Brian had argued that children got fevers.
Donna had said Megan “panicked over everything.”
Now they were physically blocking the exit.
“Move.”
Brian did not.
Donna picked up a black pen and pressed it into Megan’s hand.
“Sign it right now, and then feel free to go wherever you please.”
“What is it?”
“A property matter.”
“My daughter is sick.”
“And she will still be sick in thirty seconds.”
Donna tapped the closed folder.
Megan let the pen fall.
It clicked against the hardwood floor.
Donna’s expression changed.
She jerked the folder back toward herself.
The movement pulled one concealed page halfway free.
Megan saw a glossy photograph.
Gray stone.
White columns.
Three dormer windows.
Her father’s house.
The house in New Canaan, Connecticut, that Megan had inherited after his death eighteen months earlier.
Beneath the photograph was a heavy notary seal.
Megan’s breath stopped.
Donna instantly covered the page.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
“That was my house.”
Brian stepped toward the table.
“Megan.”
Her phone began ringing inside her coat pocket.
She shifted Lily higher and answered on speaker because both hands were occupied.
“Megan?”
A man.
She recognized him after one word.
Noah Mercer.
Brian’s business partner.
“Noah?”
“Don’t sign anything.”
Brian went white.
Donna whispered, “Hang up.”
Megan’s eyes moved between them.
Noah continued.
“If they have the burgundy closing package in front of you, don’t put your name on a single page.”
Brian lunged for the folder.
It struck the table edge and fell open.
Another document slid partly into view.
Megan saw her name.
Then Brian’s.
Then the words SOURCE OF FUNDS.
Brian stopped himself too late.
“Mom,” he whispered, “she wasn’t supposed to see that.”
Megan looked at her husband.
May you like
The feverish child in her arms suddenly felt like the only person in that room who had not lied to her.
“What,” Megan asked, “have you done with my house?”
