Chapter 4 - The Reckoning Begins
Logan pulled out a kitchen stool and sat down, running both hands over his face. The polished veneer of the high-powered Manhattan attorney had cracked, revealing a man who had narrowly escaped a life sentence in an emotional prison.
"I loved her, Valerie," Logan murmured, staring down at the linoleum floor. "Or at least, I loved the woman she pretended to be. When we met two years ago, she told me she was the glue holding your fractured family together. She claimed she was sending you money every month to support Chloe’s education."
A bitter, humorless laugh escaped my lips. "Sending me money? Logan, Rachel hasn't spoken to me in twelve months unless it was to brag about a vacation or make fun of my car. When Mark walked out on us and drained our joint savings, I asked my mother for a five-hundred-dollar loan to keep our heat on during the winter. She laughed and told me poverty was character-building. Rachel told me that poor people simply lacked ambition."
Logan shook his head in slow, sickening realization. "She charged thirty-five thousand dollars on my company card last week alone, claiming it was for 'charity donations.' The paper trail shows it went directly to offshore shell companies Julian Vance created for her."
He looked directly into my eyes, and for the first time, I noticed how warm and deeply expressive his eyes were behind his glasses. "Chloe didn't just save my bank account tonight, Valerie. She saved my soul. I could have spent the next twenty years raising children with a psychopath who despised me."
Suddenly, the bedroom door creaked open. Chloe stood in the hallway rubbing her sleepy eyes, wearing her oversized pajama shirt with cartoon penguins.
"Uncle Logan?" she mumbled.
Logan immediately stood up, his face softening with an warmth that felt entirely authentic. He knelt down so he was lower than her eye line. "Hello, Chloe. Did I wake you up?"
"No," she said, looking shyly at her socks. "Did you yell at Aunt Rachel?"
"I didn't yell," Logan said gently. "I just told her the truth, and then I asked her to leave. And I came here to tell you that you are one of the smartest, bravest young ladies I have ever met in my life."
Chloe looked up, a tiny smile playing on her lips. "Mom tied my ribbon really nice today. Aunt Rachel said it looked ugly."
"Your ribbon looked stunning," Logan replied without a second of hesitation. "Bright yellow. Like the sun. Anyone who couldn't see that must be completely blind."
Chloe giggled, walked over, and unexpectedly wrapped her thin arms around Logan’s neck in a warm hug. Logan froze for a fraction of a second—clearly unaccustomed to such pure, uncalculated affection—before gently wrapping his arms around her back.
Over Chloe’s shoulder, Logan looked at me. "Valerie, tomorrow morning, Julian Vance and Rachel will be formally removed from the firm's board. But they aren't going to go quietly. Your family is going to direct all their fury at you. They will try to destroy your reputation to save face. I want to represent you. Pro bono."
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"Represent me for what?" I asked, bewildered.
"For everything," Logan said firmly. "For the emotional harassment. For the slander they've spread about you. And for the rightful inheritance your late father left behind that your mother somehow kept hidden from you."
