Part 2 of 3

Not because I wanted him destroyed.

Because he had finally shown me how far he was willing to go.

Part 4 — The Hospital Confrontation

The following morning, Grant entered my hospital room with Eleanor.

Neither of them asked how I was recovering.

Neither asked how Lily had slept.

Grant carried a thick leather folder.

“Everything has been handled.”

I looked at him innocently.

“What has?”

“The house.”

Eleanor smiled from the foot of the bed.

“You don’t need to worry about property matters anymore, Caroline.”

I decided to let them continue.

“You sold my father’s house?”

Grant nodded proudly.

“Yes.”

“For how much?”

His confidence weakened.

“The exact number isn’t important.”

“It is extremely important to me.”

He shifted his weight.

“Eight hundred thousand.”

I stared at him.

“You sold a three-million-dollar house for eight hundred thousand dollars?”

His face tightened.

“We needed the transaction completed quickly.”

“Who is ‘we’?”

Eleanor stepped closer.

“Do not start an unnecessary argument when you have just given birth. You should be concentrating on your baby.”

At that moment, the hospital-room door opened.

Rebecca entered carrying a black briefcase.

Grant visibly went pale.

“Why is she here?”

Rebecca calmly removed a notarized document.

“This is the official public record of the legitimate sale Caroline completed two weeks before your attempted transaction.”

Eleanor grabbed the document.

Her eyes raced across the page.

“This cannot be true.”

Grant stared at me.

“You sold the house behind my back?”

“I sold my property.”

“Without discussing it with your husband?”

“Being my husband never gave you ownership of my inheritance.”

Rebecca turned toward him.

“Your attempted transaction cannot proceed. The supposed power of attorney is invalid, and the legitimate buyers will demand the return of any money you accepted.”

Grant dropped into a chair.

“I didn’t know she had already sold it.”

I stared at him.

“You absolutely knew your name was never on the deed.”

Eleanor pointed at me.

“You trapped him!”

“I never asked Grant to forge my authority or sell property belonging to strangers.”

“He is your husband. You should have warned him before he signed anything.”

I looked down at Lily.

Then I answered quietly.

“A wife has no moral obligation to prevent her husband from completing the betrayal he secretly designed to destroy her.”

Neither of them answered.

Part 5 — Back in the Kitchen

Several hours after leaving the hospital, I returned to the old house because the lawful owners had graciously allowed me time to collect personal belongings.

Lily remained safely against my chest.

Eleanor was already waiting in the kitchen.

A handwritten statement lay on the counter.

She pushed a pen toward me.

“Sign this immediately.”

I scanned the page.

“What is this supposed to be?”

“A declaration confirming that you approved the sale Grant negotiated.”

I nearly laughed.

“I will never sign that.”

Grant stepped forward and threw the white envelope onto the counter.

Two hundred dollars.

“Then take the money and get out.”

I looked at him.

“Where exactly do you expect me to go with a newborn?”

“Find a cheap room somewhere.”

Eleanor gave a dismissive snort.

“You should be grateful my son is giving you anything after the way you have behaved.”

That was when I laughed.

Not nervously.

Not quietly.

I laughed directly at them.

I held up the two bills.

“The reason this is so funny is because the house you supposedly sold has already been—”

I stopped.

Grant slammed his fist against the counter.

“Finish the sentence!”

Before I could answer, someone knocked firmly at the front entrance.

Rebecca opened the door.

A tall attorney named Michael Lawson, representing the lawful new owners, entered carrying a thick legal file.

He placed it directly in front of Grant.

“Mr. Mercer, before we discuss the eight hundred thousand dollars you attempted to obtain, we need to address something significantly more serious.”

Grant opened the file with shaking hands.

The color disappeared from his face.

There was still one secret I did not understand.

Why had Grant become desperate enough to sacrifice a three-million-dollar property for a fraction of its value?

Michael answered part of that question.

“Your attempted purchaser paid you a one-hundred-thousand-dollar cash deposit under documents supported by a fabricated power of attorney.”

Grant swallowed.

“I intended to return the money once the title transfer was completed.”

Rebecca stepped forward.

“You cannot return it because it is no longer in your account.”

I tightened my hold on Lily.

“Tell your mother where it went, Grant.”