Chapter 4: Divorce Papers

Sarah

“How much did you take, Sarah?”

Julian’s voice was low and flat, stripped of anything warm. He stood on the other side of the kitchen table like a stranger wearing her husband’s face.

Sarah’s hand moved instinctively to her stomach. The folded medical report in her purse suddenly felt like it weighed a ton.

“How much of what?” she asked quietly.

“The money.”

He finally looked at her. His eyes were bloodshot, rimmed with exhaustion, as if he hadn’t slept properly in days. Without another word, he tossed a bank statement onto the table. It slid across the wood and stopped right in front of her.

Sarah glanced down. Rows of transfers—thousands at a time—from his mother’s medical trust to an account she had never seen before. Almost a million dollars in total.

Her stomach dropped.

“I don’t know what this is,” she whispered.

Julian let out a harsh, humorless laugh. “Of course you don’t.”

He stepped closer, his shadow falling over her. “Three years, Sarah. Three years I told myself you were different. That you weren’t like the rest of them. Just a girl who grew up scrubbing floors but never let it define you.”

His voice turned colder. “Turns out Genevieve was right. You saw your chance and you took it. The house, the cars, the clothes—none of it was enough. You had to dip your hand into my mother’s trust too?”

Sarah’s throat tightened, but she forced herself to meet his eyes.

“Julian, look at me,” she said, her voice trembling but clear. “I have never asked you for money. Not once. I still wear the watch my mother gave me. I still—”

“That’s the act!” he snapped.

His palm slammed against the table, making the cutlery rattle. The calm mask he’d been wearing finally cracked.

“The sweet, loyal Sarah. The one who sat by my bed when I was too drunk to stand. The one who made me believe I wasn’t alone.” He shook his head, disgust twisting his features. “Genevieve warned me. I called her a liar. I defended you. And the whole time you were stealing from my family.”

Sarah felt bile rise in her throat. Not because of the accusation itself, but because of how easily he believed it. How quickly he had rewritten their entire marriage in his head.

She swallowed hard. “If you really think I’m capable of that… then why are we even still talking?”

Julian didn’t hesitate. He reached into his breast pocket and pulled out a sleek fountain pen, placing it on top of the divorce papers with a soft click.

“Because I want this done before my mother wakes up and finds out the girl she trusted is a thief.”

He pushed the papers toward her.

“Sign it. Take whatever is left in that account and disappear.”

Sarah stared at the pen for a long moment. Her fingers brushed lightly over her stomach again.

She could tell him right now.

I’m pregnant.

The words were right there, burning on her tongue.

But she already knew exactly how it would sound to him: another lie. Another trick to hold onto him. Another way for “the help” to climb higher.

No.

She picked up the pen.

Her hand was steady as she signed her name on the dotted line. The sound of the nib scratching across the paper felt final.

When she was done, she placed the pen down carefully and stood up slowly, smoothing her dress.

“You think you’ve won here,” she said, her voice calm and quiet in a way that surprised even her. “You think you caught the maid’s daughter stealing from the great Sterling family.”

Julian’s jaw tightened, but he said nothing.

Sarah gave him a small, sad smile.

“You’re a brilliant businessman, Julian. Everyone says so.” She paused, letting the words settle. “But today? You just made the worst trade of your life.”

She turned and walked toward the stairs without waiting for a reply. Her steps were measured, her back straight, even though every part of her wanted to crumble.