Chapter 8
Grant Holloway disappeared.
That was the first real sign that Drea’s plan was bigger than rage.
His office was empty.
His assistant claimed he had taken a sudden vacation.
His wife said he was at a conference.
His bank records said he had purchased a one-way ticket to Lisbon.
Detective Ramirez caught him before boarding.
By midnight, Grant was in an interview room.
By morning, he wanted a deal.
Cowards always find their voices when consequences sit across from them.
Nina called me at six.
“Sit down.”
I did.
Elise stood nearby, holding coffee she had not touched.
Nina said, “Drea paid Grant to prepare custody documents months ago.”
“How?”
“Cash.”
“From where?”
A pause.
“Your joint wedding account.”
I closed my eyes.
The account I filled.
The account I thought was for flowers, food, music, a future.
Drea used it to erase Calla’s mother.
Nina continued.
“There’s more.”
Of course there was.
“Drea was planning to marry you, adopt Calla, then petition to restrict Elise permanently based on staged instability.”
Elise whispered, “Why?”
Nina’s voice hardened.
“Because Calla’s maternal grandfather left her a trust.”
I looked at Elise.
She went pale.
“My father’s estate?”
“Yes,” Nina said. “It activates when Calla turns eighteen, but a legal parent can petition for management if the biological mother is declared unfit and the father consents.”
My stomach turned.
Drea did not only want me.
She wanted my daughter’s future.
Elise sat down slowly.
“My father left that for Calla because he knew I struggled after the divorce.”
“And Drea knew?”
Nina nodded.
“Grant accessed probate records.”
I gripped the table.
Calla appeared in the hallway.
Her hair was messy.
Her face was sleepy.
“What’s wrong?”
Elise opened her arms.
Calla came to her.
I looked at my daughter and understood the full horror.
Drea had studied her sadness.
Her longing.
Her loneliness.
Not to help her.
To profit from it.
I knelt in front of Calla.
“Drea tried to take something that belongs to you.”
Calla frowned.
“My letters?”
“More than that.”
“My mom?”
Elise’s eyes filled.
I nodded.
“Yes. And we are not going to let her.”
Calla’s face changed.
Fear became anger.
Not loud.
Not wild.
May you like
Clear.
“Then I want to tell the judge.”
