Cliffhanger: I hung up the phone and looked at Mark, who was sitting across the table. I realized then that Evan wasn’t just trying to take my home—he was trying to steal my sanity.
Chapter 7: The Logic of the Heart
I told Mark everything. I expected him to be outraged, or perhaps to back away now that the “mess” had become legal. Instead, his face took on a chilling, professional stillness.
“He’s using a standard intimidation tactic,” Mark said, his voice dropping an octave. “It’s a blunt instrument. He thinks because I’m ‘a stranger,’ he can paint a picture of a woman in a manic state. He doesn’t realize I know Lawrence Bell.”
“Who?”
“The best family lawyer in the state. He doesn’t make house calls, but for me, he’ll be here in an hour.”
Lawrence Bell was a man who looked like he had been carved out of old law books—sturdy, slow-moving, with eyes that saw the subtext of every sentence. He sat at my kitchen table, drank my tea, and listened to the recording I hadn’t realized I had.
Brenda Sanchez had called me earlier that day. She had accidentally left her phone recording in the hallway at the clinic when she went on her break. She had captured Evan and Nicole whispering in the corridor—discussing the “incapacity” plan, laughing about the condo.
“It’s not just a civil matter anymore,” Lawrence said, closing his briefcase. “It’s conspiracy to commit fraud. And perjury, if she takes the stand. Your husband didn’t just bring a knife to a gunfight, Jessica. He brought a toothpick to a war.”
The weeks that followed were a blur of depositions and cold winter light. Mark remained. He didn’t move in, but he was the pulse of the apartment. He brought my geranium from my old place. He sat with me while I graded notebooks brought by my colleague, Nadia.
“Are you serious about the deal?” I asked him one snowy evening in December. “The marriage thing? It’s been less than a month.”
