Chapter 3 - The Will That Should Not Exist
Emily slammed the copy of the second will onto the dining table.
"Start talking."
Daniel stood across from her, exhausted eyes fixed on the paper.
"Dad had a stroke three weeks before he died. His right side was almost completely paralyzed."
"And that's his right-handed signature?"
"Yes."
Emily looked at the date again.
"Then somebody forged it."
Daniel's phone buzzed. Marcus had sent one message.
COURT MONDAY. DON'T MAKE THIS UGLY.
Emily read it over Daniel's shoulder.
"I think the brick already made it ugly."
Daniel called the family attorney, but it was after ten. He left a voicemail, then checked every lock in the house twice.
Noah followed him with a plastic flashlight.
"I'm helping."
"I can see that."
"This flashlight scares monsters."
Daniel knelt beside him. "Good. I may need to borrow it."
Noah whispered, "Daddy scared?"
Daniel hesitated.
He wanted to say no. Fathers were supposed to be walls, shields, steady hands.
But Noah was looking at him with complete trust.
"A little," Daniel admitted.
Noah put the flashlight into his hand.
"You can have it."
Daniel's throat tightened.
At midnight, after Noah finally fell asleep between them, Emily studied photographs of Daniel's father on her phone. Thomas Walker had been a stubborn, warm man with thick gray hair, terrible jokes, and handwriting that leaned heavily to the right.
The signature on the new will was smooth.
Too smooth.
Emily zoomed in.
"Daniel."
He sat up.
"Look at his name."
"What about it?"
"Thomas A. Walker."
"Yeah."
"What was the A?"
"Andrew."
Emily pulled up the original will Daniel had emailed her years ago.
Thomas Andrew Walker.
On every page, his initials were T.A.W.
She looked back at the new document.
The typed name beneath the signature read Thomas Allen Walker.
Daniel stared.
"Marcus knows Dad's middle name."
"Of course he does. So whoever prepared this didn't."
At 8:12 the next morning, their attorney called and agreed the discrepancy was serious.
At 8:19, someone knocked on the door again.
Daniel opened it expecting another officer.
Instead, a woman in a navy coat held up an identification badge.
"Mr. and Mrs. Walker? My name is Dana Cole. I'm with Child Protective Services. We received an emergency complaint involving your son."
Emily went cold.
"What complaint?"
Dana looked past them toward Noah, who was building a tower out of couch cushions.
"The report says your home is unsafe, there is violence in the family, and your child is being exposed to threats."
Daniel's face changed.
Marcus had not just come for the house.
May you like
He had come for their family.
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