Chapter 7 - The Weight of the Morning After
The silence that followed Derek’s departure was not empty;
it was full of the ghosts of the last five years.
I sat back down on the sofa,
the adrenaline finally beginning to ebb,
leaving a hollow ache in its wake.
My mother came over and sat beside me,
placing a warm hand on my knee.
“You did well,
Mal,”
she whispered.
“I feel like I’ve been holding my breath for half a decade,”
I admitted,
leaning my head back against the cushions.
“The pain in my side is worse,”
I added,
wincing as I shifted my position.
The physical toll of the luncheon and the stress of the confrontation was finally catching up to me.
Judith immediately went into 'nurse' mode,
checking my temperature and insisting I lie down.
“The next few weeks are going to be a storm,”
she warned as she tucked a blanket around me.
“Constance won’t go down without a fight,”
“and Derek is a cornered animal.”
“They will try to use Hazel against you.”
I looked at the bassinet,
a fierce protective instinct surging through me.
“They can try,”
I said.
“But I have the gray folder.”
The phone began to buzz incessantly on the coffee table.
Texts were flooding in from Derek’s sister,
Brooke.
“WHAT DID YOU DO?”
“MOM IS IN HANDCUFFS!”
“YOU RUINED OUR LIVES!”
“DEREK SAYS YOU STOLE THE ACCOUNTS!”
I blocked her number without reading the rest.
Then came the calls from unknown numbers,
likely the "friends" from the luncheon who were now realizing their investment in Constance’s business was gone.
I turned the phone off completely.
For the first time since Hazel was born,
the world was quiet.
I spent the afternoon drifting in and out of sleep,
dreaming of white pillars and silver trays that turned into iron bars.
In my dreams,
Constance was screaming about napkins,
but her voice was drowned out by the sound of a gavel hitting a wooden block.
When I woke up,
the sun was setting,
casting long,
orange shadows across the room.
My mother was in the kitchen,
the soft clink of a spoon against a bowl a comforting,
homely sound.
“The lawyers called,”
she said as I walked into the kitchen,
leaning on the wall for support.
“The state has enough evidence for a preliminary hearing.”
“And the bank has confirmed the transfer of the mortgage.”
“You’re safe,
Mallory.”
“For now.”
I sat at the table,
looking at the empty chair where Derek used to sit while he ignored me.
“I don't just want to be safe,
Mom,”
I said,
my voice steady.
“I want everything back.”
“Everything they took from me.”
“My career,”
“my savings,”
“and my dignity.”
My mother set a bowl of soup in front of me and sat down.
“Then we start tomorrow,”
she said.
“We go through the second half of the folder.”
I looked at the folder,
which was still sitting on the counter.
“The second half?”
I asked.
Judith nodded,
her expression grim.
“The part about the offshore accounts Derek opened in the Cayman Islands.”
“The part he thought even his mother didn't know about.”
I felt a chill run down my spine.
Derek hadn't just been helping his mother.
He had been planning his own escape.
He had been planning to leave me and Hazel with the debt while he disappeared with the profit.
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The "peace" he wanted me to keep wasn't just for his mother’s sake.
It was to buy him time to pack his bags.
