Chapter 3 - The Secret My Husband Took to His GraveBy the time I reached Riverside Memorial Hospital, my contractions were six minutes apart.
That was the first reason I trusted him.
He heard the panic beneath my controlled voice and immediately switched into action.
“Emily, are you injured?”
“My water broke.”
“How far along?”
“Thirty-four weeks and five days.”
“Are you bleeding?”
“No.”
“Contractions?”
I pressed one hand to the porch as another tightening rolled through my stomach.
“Yes.”
“How far apart?”
“I don't know.”
Behind me, Richard groaned.
“Oh, for God's sake. Give me the phone.”
Michael heard him.
His voice changed.
“Is Richard Hale there?”
“Yes.”
“Did he put his hands on you?”
I looked at my father.
Richard's expression shifted.
Maybe for the first time that morning, he realized the man on the other end of the line wasn't merely Daniel's estate lawyer.
“Yes.”
“How?”
“He dragged me by my hair.”
Kelsey stopped smiling.
“Emily,” Michael said calmly, “the police are being contacted now. Do not go inside with him. Do not get in a vehicle with him. An ambulance is on the way.”
Richard stepped forward.
“You're exaggerating.”
Michael must have heard him.
“Richard,” he said loudly enough through the speaker that all three of us could hear, “do not touch my client again.”
Richard froze.
I had never seen someone physically stop because of a lawyer's voice before.
But Michael Grant had represented construction companies, property developers, families with complicated estates, and according to Daniel, at least one former governor.
Richard knew his name.
“You don't understand what's happening,” my father said.
“I understand enough.”
“This is a family matter.”
“No,” Michael replied. “The moment you physically removed the lawful owner from her residence, it stopped being a family matter.”
Kelsey frowned.
“Lawful owner?”
I looked at her.
There it was.
The first crack.
Richard pointed toward the house.
“That property belonged to Daniel Carter.”
Michael's response came immediately.
“Until June 14, 2021, yes.”
Richard's face changed.
I almost laughed despite the pain.
Almost.
Michael continued.
“On that date, Daniel executed and recorded a survivorship deed granting Emily an equal ownership interest. Upon Daniel's death, Emily became sole owner automatically.”
Kelsey slowly turned toward Richard.
“You said the house was going through probate.”
“It should be.”
“It isn't,” Michael said.
Richard grabbed the phone from my hand.
“You listen to me—”
A police siren sounded at the end of the street.
Richard stopped.
Kelsey looked toward the road.
Her complexion drained.
I reached for my phone.
“Give it back.”
He hesitated.
Then another contraction struck.
This one was different.
Stronger.
I bent forward and cried out.
The phone slipped from Richard's hand.
Two patrol cars pulled alongside the curb.
Kelsey's panic appeared instantly.
“Richard, what do we tell them?”
He hissed, “Nothing happened.”
I heard her whisper, “But she said you pulled her hair.”
“She was refusing to leave.”
“It was her house!”
“Not now.”
A paramedic unit turned onto the street behind the police.
Neighbors appeared on porches.
Curtains moved.
Phones emerged.
Richard cared deeply about appearances.
I watched humiliation begin eating him alive.
The first officer up the walkway was a woman in her forties with a steady expression.
She took in the scene.
Pregnant woman on the floor.
Water across the porch.
Man standing over her.
Young woman near the door.
Overturned purse.
The officer's eyes hardened.
“Ma'am, are you Emily Carter?”
“Yes.”
“Did someone assault you?”
Richard immediately spoke.
“Officer, she's emotional. Her husband recently died—”
The officer held up one hand.
“I asked her.”
That tiny correction seemed to offend him more than anything else.
I nodded.
“My father dragged me out by my hair.”
The officer looked at Richard.
“Sir, turn around.”
His mouth fell open.
“Excuse me?”
“Turn around and place your hands behind your back.”
“This is ridiculous.”
“Sir.”
“You don't know who I am.”
The second officer stepped closer.
“That's usually not a helpful sentence.”
Kelsey backed toward the door.
The female officer noticed.
“Ma'am, remain outside.”
Kelsey's voice trembled.
“I didn't touch her.”
“No one said you did.”
That made her even more nervous.
Paramedics hurried onto the porch.
One crouched beside me.
“Emily, I'm Tyler. We're going to take care of you, okay?”
I nodded.
As he checked my pulse, another officer began handcuffing Richard.
My father stared at me with pure hatred.
“Are you really going to have your own father arrested?”
The question hit harder than I expected.
Because somewhere inside me, despite everything, lived the little girl who had waited beside windows for him.
The teenager who had convinced herself his absence was because he was busy.
The bride who had saved a chair for him at her wedding.
But Daniel was dead.
My daughters were coming early.
And Richard had dragged me across a floor while I begged him to stop.
So I answered.
“No.”
His face brightened for half a second.
Then I finished.
“You had yourself arrested.”
The officer guided him down the steps.
Kelsey stared after him.
Then at me.
Her eyes narrowed.
“This is your fault.”
I couldn't believe it.
“My fault?”
“You pushed him.”
One of the paramedics muttered, “Lady, stop talking.”
Kelsey folded her arms.
Then Michael's voice came from my forgotten phone.
“Emily?”
I picked it up.
“Yes.”
“There's something else.”
Another contraction tightened around me.
“What?”
“The emergency instructions Daniel left with my office.”
I closed my eyes.
Daniel had mentioned them once.
Six months earlier.
We had been eating Chinese food on the nursery floor while assembling a crib.
“If anything happens to me,” he'd said, “Michael has everything.”
I'd thrown a pillow at him.
“Don't say that.”
“I mean it.”
“Nothing's happening to you.”
Daniel smiled.
“Probably not. But being prepared is how I love you.”
At the time, I'd rolled my eyes.
Now his words cut through me.
“What instructions?”
Michael hesitated.
“Daniel became concerned about your father last year.”
My breath caught.
“Why?”
“He discovered Richard had been making inquiries about your property.”
I stared at the police car where my father sat handcuffed in the back seat.
“What kind of inquiries?”
“Ownership records. Insurance. Daniel's company interests.”
I felt suddenly cold.
“Daniel knew?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn't he tell me?”
“He was gathering information first. He didn't want to frighten you while you were pregnant.”
Tears burned behind my eyes.
Michael continued.
“He also amended several estate documents.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means your father isn't the only person who made assumptions about what Daniel left behind.”
A paramedic helped me onto the stretcher.
Michael's voice lowered.
“I'll meet you at the hospital.”
“What did Daniel leave?”
“Something Richard desperately wanted.”
I gripped the phone.
“What?”
“Controlling ownership of Carter Restoration.”
I stopped breathing.
Daniel's company.
The construction firm he'd built over twelve years.
The company Richard had once mocked as Daniel's “little contractor business.”
Michael finished quietly.
“And according to Daniel's instructions, if Richard attempted to interfere with you after his death, certain documents were to be released immediately.”
“Released to whom?”
“His board.”
I looked at my father through the ambulance doors.
“What documents?”
Michael paused.
“Evidence that Richard had been trying to secretly purchase Daniel's company through intermediaries.”
The ambulance doors closed.
For the first time all morning, I forgot my contractions.
“My father was trying to buy Daniel's company?”
“No, Emily.”
May you like
Michael's voice became grim.
“He was trying to take it.”
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