Chapter 17 - The Choice at the Tree Lot

Natalie stared at the message, then walked to Ryan and handed him her phone.

"He wants me alone," she said. "I'm not going."

Ryan read the threat and called Torres. It was a small choice, perhaps, but it was the first clean one Natalie had made in months.

Officers arranged to handle the contact. Natalie followed instructions, preserved the messages, and did not promise Derek anything. She did not go to the tree lot.

Derek sent another photo: Paul's ledger resting beside a red gas can. He claimed he would burn the book at midnight unless Evelyn withdrew her complaint.

"We have copies," Mara reminded them. "The original matters, but nobody's safety is worth a piece of paper."

Evelyn agreed, though the thought of Paul's handwriting disappearing made her ache.

At eleven thirty, Torres called. Derek had been located near a storage yard after security staff reported someone trying to enter a closed lot. He was taken into custody without anyone in the family approaching him. Officers recovered several notebooks from his vehicle and referred the related evidence for further examination.

Evelyn sat in the kitchen of June's apartment and let the relief come slowly. She had been waiting all week to hear that the immediate danger was over. Now that it was, she found herself crying into a dish towel.

Ryan knelt beside her. "Mom, I'm sorry. For the house. For Dad. For all of it."

She touched his hair as she had when he was small, then took her hand away.

"I love you," she said. "But love doesn't mean you can move back tomorrow."

"I understand."

"Do you?"

He met her eyes. "I'm starting to."

On Christmas Eve, Mara called with another complication. A bank had put a temporary hold on one of Evelyn's charitable accounts while it verified documents connected to the forged filings. The housing fund's holiday disbursements might not go through.

Evelyn listened carefully, thanked her lawyer, and hung up.

"What now?" June asked.

May you like

Billionaire’s Wife Kicked a Waitress in Front of 300 Elites—One Slap Exp...

The billionaire’s wife tried to kick a waitress in the face in front of 300 wealthy guests. But seconds later, she whispered three...

My Mother Grabbed My Wife by the Hair Over Cold Soup—But What My Father...

My mother grabbed my wife by the hair over a bowl of cold soup. And the most shameful part? For one terrible second, I almost defe...

My Parents Kicked My 6-Year-Old Daughter and Me Out on Christmas—Then I...

My mother kicked my six-year-old daughter out of Christmas dinner, never realizing I was the only reason she still had a house to...

Evelyn looked at the stack of handwritten applications on the table.

"Now," she said, "we decide whether Christmas is a date or a promise."