Chapter 4

"Are you divorcing of your own free will?"

The clerk behind the counter looked up, eyes wary.

I opened my mouth to say no.

Abigail's fingers dug into the soft flesh of my hand, and the pain stole the words right out of me.

The clerk repeated the question.

Abigail's other hand pressed against the back of my neck, forcing my head down. Once. Twice.

The clerk stood up, visibly irritated.

"Ma'am, this looks like coercion."

Abigail smirked.

"Fine. Go ahead and ask him yourself whether it's his choice."

She leaned in, her lips brushing my ear.

"Think about our three children. If you don't sign, by tomorrow, they won't be Balmers anymore."

My whole body went rigid. I looked up at her, unable to believe what I'd just heard.

"Abigail, they're your children too!"

"So what?" Her eyes had gone ice cold. "I can have more, with any man I want. But you, Brett, can you afford to gamble on that?"

I couldn't.

Ten years of patience, forty-nine betrayals endured.

I'd burned through everything I had waiting, not just for Abigail's death, but for the day our three children could inherit everything openly, in the light of day.

To protect them, all I could do was force the bitter words out.

"I'm divorcing of my own free will."

The clerk studied me for a few seconds before finally sitting back down and sliding the form across the counter.

My hand shook as I signed the last line. Not from grief. From fury I couldn't let show.

Abigail snatched the divorce decree from my hands and ran straight out the door.

Outside, Dwayne had already come down from the rooftop. His face was pale, but his eyes were shining.

Abigail rushed over and threw her arms around him.

"Dwayne, I'm free."

She took his hand, and the two of them held each other tightly.

They kissed right there in public.

I stood three steps away, a spectator.

No. A clown.

The reporters closed in.

"Mr. Ridley, how are you feeling right now?"

"Will you be fighting for custody?"

"As for the property division..."

I didn't answer.

I watched Abigail lead Dwayne back inside the county clerk's office. This time, to the marriage registration window.

They sat side by side, filling out forms, signing, posing for photos.

When the camera flash went off, Dwayne's smile was radiant.

Abigail turned to look at him, her eyes soft with a tenderness she hadn't shown me in ten years.

Dwayne couldn't wait to post the photo to Ducky.

The caption read: [Please take care of me for the rest of my life, @Abigail Balmer.]

Within a minute, the comments had passed ten thousand.

I went back to the Balmer estate like a walking corpse.

Russell and Marilyn had already gotten the news and were waiting for us at home.

Russell smashed his teacup, furious.

"That worthless piece of trash! That absolute worthless piece of trash!"

Marilyn pressed a hand to her chest, her face bloodless.

"Brett, don't worry. I will never accept that gutter rat into this family. The moment that old man dies, I'll make sure Abigail leaves him!"

I lowered my head and said nothing.

I couldn't afford to wait that long.

Five days left.

Then, all at once, a new plan took shape in my mind.

I made a call, reaching out to a company called Lucent Dynamics.

They legally extracted memory fragments from the recently deceased for use in medical, legal, and inheritance disputes.

Now, it was time to change my approach.