LOGINRichard met his mother again on a Tuesday.He didn't tell me until he was already on his way out."I called her this morning," he said. "We will be meeting at a coffee shop in Hillcrest."I was on the sofa with the baby against my chest and a highlighted evidence chapter open in my lap. I looked up at him."Okay," I said."Is that all you've got to say?" He asked, raising his eyebrow."I already said everything I needed to say." I looked back down at my textbook. "Go, Richard."He stood in the doorway for another second. Then he left.He was gone two hours.I fed the baby, put her down for her nap, washed two bottles and reorganized the legal pads on the counter. I poured a cup of coffee I didn't need when I heard his key in the lock.He came in and set a manila envelope on the kitchen table.He didn't say anything right away. He just hung up his jacket, stood at the counter with his back for a moment, then turned around. His face was complicated in a way I hadn't seen before, it loo
It was 8:08am now.The call came at eight the next morning.I was at the sink washing my baby's bottle when I heard Richard say, "Repeat that again."I turned around.He was standing at the counter holding a phone to his ears."Harold Jones Senior died eight years ago," he said into the phone with his eyes wide open in shock.I turned the faucet off.He lowered the phone and looked at me across the kitchen. "The clause was struck from the will seven years ago. That was a private amendment signed by Harold Jones Senior."I watched him amazed.“What? A dead man's signature, filed and certified, sitting quietly in the probate records for seven years. Whoever did this was smart indeed.” I said.This happened when Richard was twenty-one, still in law school, and not yet a threat to anyone."Is this Arthur?" I asked."Maybe he is the one." Richard set the phone down. "Every forged document needs a notary. And a notary who certified a dead man's signature is someone who can be flipped.""Can
Richard had been carrying something for two weeks.I noticed it because I knew him. There's a certain kind of quietness that means a man is working through a problem, and there's a different kind that means he's carrying something he hasn't figured out how to hand over yet. Richard had not been himself since the night our daughter was born.I didn't push to know what's wrong but I know he would tell me. On a Sunday morning, he called for me. Our daughter was asleep in the bassinet. Richard sat down across from me at the table, pushed his mug to the side, and looked at me straight into my eyes."I need to tell you something," he said.I put my mug down. "Okay.""I should've told you sooner.""Just tell me now, Richard."So, he did. He told me everything, starting from the flash drive, Ned in the hospital corridor, the audio file he stood alone and listened to four days before the gala. The motel room number Nora gave, the dosage, the timing and even the name of the girl who was actu
They came for me on a Tuesday.I was still in the hospital, forty-eight hours after my baby was born. Richard was with his coffee and whatever Bonny brought twice a day in a paper bag for him. Our daughter slept in the bassinet beside my bed, her chest rising and falling, completely unbothered by the world.The nurse who came to check my blood pressure that morning had a tablet tucked under her arm. She set it on the counter, reached for the pressure cuff, and I saw the screen.I saw the headline.‘A billionaire’s baby has just been delivered’The nurse noticed me reading through her phone screen as she deliberately dropped the phone feeling embarrassed of my intrusion."I need to see that," I said."Miss Johnson…""Please. I need to see it."She handed the phone over to me.I held it and read the news twice.The news appeared from two exclusive sources. I read their brand’s name in the third paragraph and felt triggered.‘Tasha Davies and Franklin Miller?In the report she talked abo
When we walked out of the courtroom. The flashbulbs and the reporters hampered around Richard and I, calling his name. His hand was on my back, steering me forward through the small crowd of news reporters.Thank God we were at the winning side in the courtroom.While we moved towards our car. Immediately, I felt a slight pain below my abdomen, like a fist closing around something. I had been feeling it a bit since the recess, breathing through it on the witness stand.My pregnancy was barely nine months. So, I never felt this pain could be labor.I pressed my palm flat against my stomach and ignored it, saying it was nothing as we continued walking.The drive back to Bonny's brownstone was calm. Richard was on the phone with Ned, already moving to the next problem. That was Richard, he simply processed things by moving forward. I used to think it was cold of him, but now I know better. It was how he kept from falling apart.Boston the driver, drove with both hands on the wheel. His
“Don’t panic, you are in control,” Richard said squeezing my hand.“I know but I can’t help but feel a little bit scared.” I respondedHe patted my shoulder and said softly, “I understand but there is not much to worry about. My father is going to understand today that I was properly trained for the courtroom, and since he has decided to defy family for status, he is going in for it pronto.When the court reassembled, Judge Halloway looked at me for a long time. Then, she looked at the folder Richard had placed on her desk, the evidence of the fraud, the drugging, and the Hayes family’s corruption."The petition for conservatorship," Judge Halloway said, her gavel hovering, "is denied. Furthermore, in light of the evidence presented by Mr. Hamman and Mr. Jones, I am referring the Hayes and Jones merger to the District Attorney for a full criminal investigation into corporate racketeering and crime assault."Crack.The gavel came down like the hammer of God.The courtroom exploded into







