Chapter 4 - The Audit Begins
The moment Daniel’s car disappeared around the corner, Anna locked the front door and guided me back to the kitchen table. She poured me a fresh cup of chamomile tea, carefully setting it down far from the edge of the counter.
"Are you okay?" Anna asked, her eyes full of fierce concern.
"I haven't felt this clear-headed in five years," I said. It was the honest truth. For months, I had felt like I was losing my mind, gaslit into believing that Daniel’s financial shortfalls were due to inflation, bad investments, or rising firm expenses. Every time I had asked why he couldn't contribute to groceries or utilities, he had accused me of being unsupportive. Now, the fog had completely lifted.
I called my attorney, Marcus Vance, who had handled my grandmother's estate four years ago. Marcus was sharp, methodical, and had known my family since I was a teenager. Within an hour, I was sitting in his downtown office, spreading the printed documents across his conference table: the scald assessment from urgent care, the canceled travel itinerary, the Cabo San Lucas honeymoon reservation, and the printouts of our shared household bank statements.
Marcus adjusted his gold-rimmed glasses, reading through the paperwork with a cold, professional eye. When he reached the urgent care report detailing the second-degree burn on my collarbone, his mouth hardened into a straight, unforgiving line.
"Did you file a domestic violence report when you were at urgent care, Claire?" Marcus asked.
"The triage nurse documented the burn and took photographs for their records," I replied. "I told them it was an accidental spill during an argument because... I was still in shock, Marcus. I didn't want to admit to myself what had happened."
"Well, you don't have to protect him anymore," Marcus said, pulling a legal notepad toward him. "This isn't just an ugly divorce, Claire. This is attempted grand larceny, domestic assault, and intentional dissipation of marital assets. Daniel was attempting to coerce you into wiring eighteen thousand dollars under false pretenses. That borders on wire fraud and extortion."
"What about the house?" I asked, my heart tightening slightly. "He claimed on Anna's porch that he would take half of the property."
Marcus gave a tight, confident smile. "The cottage at 412 Elmwood is held under the Evelyn Vance Trust, created by your maternal grandmother. You are the sole beneficiary. You took title prior to the marriage, and our records show that every property tax payment and insurance premium was drawn directly from your separate trust disbursement account. Daniel doesn't own a single square inch of that floorboard. He is an unauthorized occupant."
Marcus tapped his pen against the desk. "Here is what we do next. I am filing an emergency petition for an ex parte order of protection based on the physical altercation and the verbal threats witnessed by Anna. That will grant you exclusive possession of the home immediately. By five o'clock today, the sheriff will serve Daniel at his law firm. He will have twenty minutes under deputy supervision to collect his clothes and personal effects. After that, if he comes within five hundred feet of you, your house, or Anna's property, he goes directly to jail."
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"And the bakery money?" I asked.
"Your LLC is completely insulated," Marcus assured me. "Daniel's mistress, however, might want to start looking for a new vacation spot. Because the next phone call I make is to the managing partner of Daniel's law firm."
