Chapter 6 - The Paper Trail
The sun rose the following morning over a devastated town. The floodwaters had crested at dawn, leaving behind a thick layer of brown silt, ruined livelihoods, and overturned vehicles.
Lily was cleared for discharge at ten in the morning. My best friend and coworker, Sarah, picked us up in her SUV and brought us straight to her guest bedroom. Sarah had prepared hot oatmeal, clean clothes for Lily, and an impenetrable wall of love that my own blood relatives had never once provided.
Once Lily was safely eating breakfast and watching cartoons, Sarah joined me at the kitchen table. Spread out before us were my laptop, bank records, and the audio file.
""Have you listened to it again?"" Sarah asked quietly, sliding a mug of black coffee toward me.
""Twice,"" I said, my voice steady. ""Every time I hear Lily beg him, my resolve hardens. I spent years thinking that if I just gave a little more, worked a little harder, paid off one more debt, Dad would look at me with the pride he gives Nicole. I was a fool.""
""You were a daughter looking for love from parents who only see people as transactions,"" Sarah said gently. ""So, what's the plan?""
""I called Detective Miller an hour ago,"" I replied. ""He’s opening an official criminal investigation for child endangerment and abandoning a minor in distress. He asked for the audio recording. I just emailed it to his precinct.""
""Good,"" Sarah said firmly. ""What about the money?""
That was the second part of my retribution.
When Dad’s business had collapsed four years ago, he had begged me for thirty-five thousand dollars to avoid bankruptcy. Because I was dealing with a messy divorce and trying to protect that money for Lily’s trust, I hadn't simply handed him cash. My divorce attorney at the time had insisted on drafting a formal Promissory Note and a second-lien deed of trust against the Sycamore property.
At the time, Dad had signed it casually, laughing it off as ""legal nonsense between family"" and promising he’d pay it back in months. He never paid a single cent. He had conveniently forgotten the document existed.
I opened the digital legal file stored on my cloud drive. The contract was signed, notarized, and legally registered with the county recorder’s office. It carried a standard default interest rate of eight percent per annum, compounding annually upon failure to pay.
With interest, the debt Robert Collins owed my daughter's trust was now just shy of fifty-two thousand dollars.
Furthermore, because of the second lien, any insurance payout issued for structural damage to 414 Sycamore Creek Road had a legal obligation to list me—as the registered lienholder—as a primary payee on the check.
My phone buzzed on the table. It was an unknown number, but the area code was local. I tapped speakerphone.
""Jenna Collins?"" a stern female voice asked.
""Speaking.""
""This is Special Investigator Vance from State Farm Insurance. We're handling the catastrophic flood claims for the Sycamore Creek district. We received an urgent notification from the County Sheriff's Department regarding a criminal investigation involving the property at 414 Sycamore, as well as a formal lien notice filed under your name. We need to schedule an immediate sworn deposition regarding the circumstances of the evacuation.""
May you like
I looked at Sarah, whose eyes widened in anticipation.
""I’m available right now, Investigator Vance,"" I said evenly. ""And I have information you'll definitely want to review before you release a single dime to Robert and Patricia Collins.""
