Chapter 6: What Michael Did Next
The attorney's name was Gerald Marsh, and he picked up on the first ring.
"Mrs.
Calloway," he said.
"David told me you'd call.
I've been ready for three weeks."
"He told me to call before noon," I said.
"Something about Michael moving money."
"I filed for a temporary restraining order on the accounts this morning at eight o'clock," Gerald said.
"The moment David confirmed you had the documents.
The judge signed it forty minutes ago.
Nothing moves without court approval."
I let out a breath I hadn't realized I'd been holding.
"There's something else," I said.
"David told me the divorce was fraudulent.
That Michael and Jessica are still legally married."
A pause.
"I was aware of that possibility.
I have a contact at the county clerk's office verifying the original filing now.
If the paperwork was falsified, that's a separate matter — and a serious one."
"What does it mean for me?"
"It means your marriage was entered under false pretenses," Gerald said carefully.
"Which is actually useful to you.
It changes the legal structure of the asset claims significantly.
You weren't a spouse.
You were a defrauded party.
The remedies available to you are broader."
I was standing in my car now, door closed, the city moving quietly outside the windows.
"He's going to find out about the restraining order," I said.
"He already has," Gerald said.
"His attorney called my office seventeen minutes ago."
"What did they say?"
"That Michael wants to meet.
That he's prepared to offer a settlement.
That he'd prefer to resolve this privately." A pause.
"My advice is to decline."
"I agree," I said.
"What happens now?"
"Now we wait for him to make a mistake," Gerald said.
"And based on what I know about Michael Calloway, I don't think we'll be waiting long."
He was right.
Michael called me at eleven-fifteen.
"Emily." His voice had changed again.
Not calculating now.
Something rawer underneath.
"I need you to hear me out."
"I'm listening."
"The money — the accounts — it's more complicated than it looks.
I was protecting assets.
From taxes, from liability.
It's what people do.
It doesn't mean what you think it means."
"Your attorney told Gerald you want to settle."
A beat.
"I want to fix this."
"You want to contain it."
"Emily—"
"Jessica is still your wife," I said.
"Isn't she."
Silence.
"The divorce filing was fraudulent," I said.
"Which means our marriage was fraudulent.
Which means everything you told me for twenty-three years was fraudulent."
"It's more complicated—"
"Stop saying that." My voice came out very steady.
"Is she your wife.
Yes or no."
Another silence.
Longer.
"We never fully resolved things," he said finally.
"It was a legal technicality.
It didn't affect what we had."
"It affected everything we had." I watched a pigeon land on the hood of the car in front of me.
"I want you to hear me say this clearly, Michael.
I am not settling.
I am not meeting you privately.
I am not giving you the chance to manage this the way you've managed everything else."
"You're making a mistake." His voice shifted — something colder underneath.
"You don't understand who you're dealing with.
I have people who can make this very difficult for you."
"I know you do," I said.
"I'm counting on you to use them.
Every move you make goes into the record."
He hung up.
I sat in the car for a moment.
Then I drove to the school where Megan worked and sat in the parking lot until she came out for her lunch break.
She saw my face through the windshield and came straight to the car.
"Mom." She got in the passenger seat.
"What happened?"
"Your father called in a threat," I said.
"I want you and Olivia somewhere he can't reach you easily for the next few days."
Megan was quiet for a moment.
"How bad is this going to get?"
"I don't know yet," I said honestly.
"But I need you to trust me."
She looked at me the way she used to when she was small — searching my face for the truth of things.
"I do," she said.
"I always have."
I reached over and squeezed her hand once.
Then my phone buzzed on the dashboard.
A text from a number I didn't recognize.
*He's at the bank right now.
Trying to access the box.
Security is holding him.
You should come.*
May you like
I stared at the message.
Then I started the car.
