Chapter 10: What Evelyn Did Next
She moved the same afternoon.
We were still with our attorney, a woman named Grace Okafor who worked from a quiet office near the courthouse, when Alex's phone lit up with a call from Richard.
Alex stepped into the hallway.
I stayed with Grace and watched her read through June's folder, her expression careful and professional, one finger moving slowly down the page of emails.
"This is significant," Grace said, without looking up.
"Is it enough?"
"For the trust challenge — possibly.
For the rest—" She turned to the medication emails.
"This is harder.
Forsythe would need to cooperate.
And even then, proving intent over outcome is difficult." She looked up.
"But it shifts the picture considerably.
A judge reviewing the trust administration will see a pattern.
That matters."
Alex came back in.
His face was controlled, but I knew his face.
"She filed a complaint," he said.
"Against me.
With family services."
Grace set down her pen.
"She told them I've been emotionally unstable.
That I threw a pot of boiling soup at her in front of guests.
That Olivia has been isolating me from my family and she's concerned for Chloe's welfare." He sat down.
"A caseworker is scheduled to visit the house on Thursday."
The room was quiet.
"She's inverting everything," I said.
"That's what she does," Alex said.
"She takes the truth and she turns it one hundred and eighty degrees and she says it first, loudly, to the right people."
Grace picked up her pen again.
"Then we prepare for Thursday.
The camera footage, Dr.
Hale's file, the bandages, Chloe's medical records — all of it needs to be organized and ready.
The caseworker will want to speak with Chloe separately."
"Chloe's six," I said.
"I know.
But she's also a witness.
What she says — in her own words, unprompted — will carry weight." Grace looked at me steadily.
"Has she said anything to you?
About what happened in the kitchen?
About her grandmother?"
I thought about Chloe at the table that morning.
Her toast.
Her question.
*Is Grandma going away?*
"She knows more than we've let ourselves see," I said.
"Then let her speak when the time comes.
Don't coach her.
Don't prepare her.
Just make sure she feels safe." Grace closed the folder.
"In the meantime, I'm filing a motion to freeze the trust pending review.
Richard has already seen the footage — that's in our favor.
If he cooperates, the motion moves faster."
"And if Evelyn releases the letters?" Alex asked.
"Let her." Grace said it without hesitation.
"We'll release the footage the same day.
The public can decide which story they believe." She stood.
"She made a mistake when she went to family services.
She's put herself on record now.
Everything she claims can be cross-referenced against everything we have." She looked at Alex.
"She thought you'd be afraid.
She doesn't know you came in here today with a notarized file and eleven years of evidence."
Alex was quiet for a moment.
"She knows me very well," he said.
"She just stopped being right about me."
We left Grace's office at half past five.
The street was busy with the end of the workday — people moving fast, heads down, the particular energy of a city releasing itself from its own schedule.
I stopped on the pavement outside.
"What is it?" Alex asked.
"I want to go get Chloe," I said.
"Right now.
From Lily's.
I want to bring her home and make dinner and just—" I stopped.
"I want one normal evening before Thursday."
He looked at me.
Then he took out his phone and called Lily's mother to say we were on our way.
We picked Chloe up at six.
She came out of the house with a drawing she'd made — a house, a tree, three figures, the sun in the corner the way children always draw it.
"That's us," she said, pointing to the three figures.
"And that's our house.
And that's the sun."
"Who's that?" Alex asked, pointing to the smallest figure.
"That's me," she said.
"I'm in the middle because that's the safest place."
Alex looked at me over her head.
May you like
I took her hand.
We went home.
