Chapter 5: Grace
Grace Hendricks sounded like someone who had heard every version of every story and had stopped being surprised by any of them without ever stopping caring.
"Nora," she said, when I introduced myself.
"Pauline told me about you weeks ago.
I'm glad you called.
How are you feeling?"
"I had a baby two days ago."
"I know.
Congratulations." A brief pause.
"And I'm sorry for the circumstances.
Are you somewhere safe?"
"Yes.
Still at the hospital."
"Good.
Stay there until we've spoken.
I don't want you going back to Columbus without a plan." The sound of papers shifting.
"I've reviewed what Pauline sent me.
The financial transfers are significant.
Combined with the documentation of the relationship with the other woman and the pattern of financial control during the marriage, you have a strong case.
But I need to ask you some questions before we move."
"Okay."
"Did Derek ever put anything in writing?
Texts, emails, anything where he explicitly claimed ownership of shared assets?"
I thought about it.
"He used to text me when bills were due.
He'd say things like 'I'm covering this, same as always' or 'this comes out of my account.' He said that a lot.
My account."
"Do you still have those texts?"
"Yes."
"Don't delete anything.
Forward everything to the email I'm going to give you." Another pause.
"Did he ever threaten you?
Directly or indirectly?"
Rachel was watching me from across the room.
"The voicemail," I said.
"From the night I left.
He said whatever plan I had cooked up was over."
"Save that too." Grace's voice was calm and precise.
"Now.
The house.
Is your name on the mortgage?"
The question landed like a stone.
"No," I said slowly.
"He said it was simpler to keep it in his name.
That it was just paperwork."
"It's not just paperwork." A beat.
"But it's not the end of the world either.
Ohio is an equitable distribution state.
Length of marriage, contributions, the child — all of it factors in.
When did you get married?"
"Four years ago."
"And you were working during the marriage?"
"Yes.
Full time, until eight months ago when my doctor put me on partial bed rest."
"Where did your salary go?"
I closed my eyes.
"Joint account."
"The same account he drained."
"Yes."
Grace was quiet for a moment.
When she spoke again, her voice had shifted — not softer exactly, but more deliberate.
"Nora, I want to be honest with you.
Derek has a head start.
He has money moved, a lawyer already in place, and he has been planning this longer than you have.
That is the difficult part." A pause.
"The less difficult part is that he made mistakes.
He moved money from a joint account during a pregnancy, which courts do not look kindly on.
He has a documented relationship with a coworker.
And he left a voicemail that a first-year law student could use against him." Another pause.
"He thought you would come home.
He thought the fifteen dollars would work."
I looked at Emily.
"It didn't," I said.
"No," Grace said.
"It didn't.
I'll need you in my office as soon as you're discharged.
Pauline knows the address.
Can you do Friday?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll see you Friday." A brief silence.
"Get some rest, Nora.
You just did the hardest part."
She ended the call.
Rachel hadn't moved.
"Well?" she said.
"Friday," I said.
"We go to Pittsburgh."
Rachel nodded once.
Then she stood, walked to the window, and looked out at the gray February sky for a long moment.
"He's going to find out you're not coming back," she said.
"And when he does, he's not going to stay quiet."
She was right.
My phone lit up on the tray table.
Not Derek's number.
A number I didn't recognize.
Columbus area code.
I let it ring.
It rang four more times.
Then it stopped.
A text arrived thirty seconds later.
*This is Marcus Webb.
I'm Derek's attorney.
We need to talk about your current situation before this becomes complicated for everyone.
Please call me back at your earliest convenience.*
Rachel read it over my shoulder.
"His lawyer," she said.
"Already."
May you like
She straightened up.
"Call Grace back," she said.
