Chapter 2 - The Title Search
The night air outside the pavilion was cold and sharp against my skin. Pink frosting still clung to my hair and smeared the front of my white maternity dress, but my mind was completely clear.
I didn't drive to the house I shared with Daniel. Instead, I drove ten miles down the county road to my grandmother’s old stone cottage—a secondary property on the western edge of the estate that Daniel and Linda rarely visited because Linda deemed it "shabby."
I stripped off the ruined dress, stood under a hot shower for twenty minutes until every trace of buttercream washed down the drain, and put on an oversized flannel shirt and leggings.
Sitting at my grandmother’s teak desk, I opened my laptop and logged into my private secure server.
For four years, I had maintained two distinct financial lives. There was the joint account I shared with Daniel—the one he used to pay business expenses and fund his mother’s endless "emergencies"—and there was my private trust, established by my maternal grandmother, Eleanor Vance, when I turned eighteen.
I pulled up the land registry deeds for the twelve-acre property, including the primary four-bedroom farmhouse, the guest pavilion, and the surrounding timberland.
PROPERTY IDENTIFIER: VANCE ESTATE - PARCEL 402
PRIMARY TITLE HOLDER: EMMA VANCE REED (SOLE OWNER)
MARITAL AGREEMENT ATTACHMENT: SEPARATE PROPERTY NON-COMMINGLING CLAUSE
Before our wedding, Daniel’s mother had insisted on a prenuptial agreement, assuming I was a struggling freelance accountant marrying her "successful contractor" son. My attorney had happily drafted the document, inserting strict non-commingling clauses that kept all Vance family land, trusts, and capital entirely outside marital property.
Linda had signed as a witness without reading the fine print.
My phone chimed on the desk.
Daniel (12 missed calls, 8 text messages)
I opened the text thread.
11:14 PM - Daniel: Emma, where are you? Mom is really upset. You can’t just walk out of your own shower.
11:22 PM - Daniel: Please answer me. We need to clean up the pavilion. The caterers are asking who is paying the final balance.
11:45 PM - Daniel: Mom says you’re overreacting. It was just a joke that went wrong. Come home so we can talk.
I stared at the screen. A joke that went wrong.
I didn't reply. Instead, I drafted a single email to my corporate real estate attorney, Sarah Lin, attaching the security camera footage from the pavilion’s local storage drive—the footage showing Linda smashing the cake into my face while Daniel stood by.
Subject: Emergency Notice - Eviction and Property Lease Termination
Sarah,
Please draft a formal 30-day notice to vacate for Daniel Reed and Linda Reed regarding Parcel 402. Also, initiate a formal asset audit of Carter Construction's equipment currently stored in the North Barn. We move forward on Monday.
I hit Send.
May you like
My daughter kicked again, hard against my palm. I rested my hand over my stomach and smiled softly into the quiet room.
"We're going to be just fine," I whispered.
