Chapter 3 - The Unraveling of Derek Palmer
The house felt cold and hollow as I stepped back inside.
The scent of Tabitha’s perfume still lingered in the hallway,
cloying and cheap.
Brenda had left a mess in the kitchen,
half-eaten appetizers and dirty plates scattered everywhere.
I walked into the living room and saw the Christmas tree,
the one Daisy and I had decorated together.
Beneath it were the gifts Derek had bought for Tabitha—jewelry boxes and designer bags.
I didn't open them.
I didn't care.
My father was in the study,
using Derek’s own computer to access the digital records he had been hiding.
"Nora,
come look at this,"
he called out.
I sat beside him,
the screen glowing with spreadsheets and bank statements.
Derek had been clever,
but he wasn't a lawyer.
He had been moving money from our joint savings into an offshore account for over a year.
But because of the way Arthur had structured our marriage contract,
every dollar he moved was considered a theft from the trust.
"He wasn't just planning a separation,"
my father explained,
pointing to a series of wire transfers.
"He was trying to bleed you dry before he left."
"But look at the dates,"
he added.
The most recent transfers had happened after Derek had removed my access to the accounts.
He had been using my "stay-at-home-mom" status as a shield,
assuming I would never have the resources to audit him.
"He’s not as rich as he looks,
Nora,"
Arthur said.
"The red coat,
the SUV,
the champagne...
it was all financed on debt he was trying to dump on you."
I looked at the total amount he had stolen.
It was nearly two hundred thousand dollars.
"He was going to leave me with the debt while he ran off with her,"
I whispered.
"He would have succeeded,"
Arthur said,
"if he hadn't been so arrogant."
"By kicking you out last night,
he triggered the 'bad faith' clause in the pre-nuptial agreement."
"He doesn't just lose the house,
Nora."
"He loses his claim to any of the assets he tried to hide."
I heard a knock at the door.
It was Mrs. Gable,
holding a plate of warm cookies and a thumb drive.
"I have the audio from the porch,
too,"
she said,
her eyes kind and fierce.
"My camera has a very sensitive microphone."
We played the audio in the quiet living room.
We heard Derek’s voice,
clear and sharp.
"She’s just a burden,
Brenda,"
he had said while I was walking toward the car.
"Once she’s gone,
we can finally live the life we deserve."
"The kid will be fine,
she's tough,"
he added with a chuckle.
Then we heard Tabitha’s laugh.
"I can't believe she actually thought you loved her."
"I loved the image of her,"
Derek replied.
"But the image got old."
The audio was the final nail in his coffin.
It proved premeditation.
It proved a total lack of concern for Daisy’s welfare.
"I want him to see this,"
I said,
my voice cold and resolute.
"I want him to hear himself."
"He will,"
my father promised.
"In front of a judge,
in front of the board of his company,
and in front of the world."
I spent the rest of the night cleaning the house,
scrubbing away every trace of Brenda and Tabitha.
I threw the trash bags they had used for Daisy’s clothes into the fireplace.
I watched the black plastic melt and burn,
the flames turning blue and green.
I wasn't just cleaning a house.
I was reclaiming my life.
May you like
And for the first time in years,
I felt like I could finally breathe.
