It was the kind of place you picked if you didn’t want attention. She went inside and up to the second floor. The hallway was dim, with that stale paper smell older offices seem to have. Emily put on dark sunglasses, tied a scarf over her hair, and sat on a bench outside a door marked “T. Simmons, Notary Public.”
She didn’t have to wait long. At 2:55, footsteps sounded in the hall. Emily leaned back against the bench, trying to disappear. Brian and Lauren walked right past her without a second glance. The mistress wore a tight red dress that looked expensive and a little too eager. Brian was in a tailored suit, tie straight, every inch the polished professional.
They went into the office. The door closed. Emily waited one minute, took out her phone, and called Ethan.
“I’m here. They just went in.”
“Good,” he said. “Give it five minutes, then go in. I’m downstairs. If anything goes sideways, I’m close. You remember everything?”
“I do,” Emily said.
She counted off five minutes. Her heart was pounding high in her throat, and her hands were cold, but she made herself stand, walk to the door, and knock.
“Come in,” a woman’s voice called.
Emily opened the door and stepped inside. Behind the desk sat an older woman in glasses, gray hair neatly pulled back—the notary. Facing her with their backs to the door sat Brian and Lauren.
Brian turned at the sound and froze. His face went slack. His eyes widened in pure alarm. Lauren turned too and went so pale she nearly matched the paper on the desk.
“Emily—what are you doing here?” Brian’s voice cracked.
Emily removed her sunglasses, looked at him calmly, then turned to the notary.
“Hello. Sorry to interrupt. My name is Emily Carter, and I’m this man’s wife.” She nodded toward Brian. “I need to state for the record that I have not signed any power of attorney, nor do I intend to. If my husband is attempting to execute documents in my name, that document is fraudulent, and I want that noted immediately.”
The room went dead quiet. The notary looked from Emily to Brian and back again.
“What is this?” Brian snapped, jumping to his feet. “She’s lying. I have the paperwork. Everything’s legal.”
“Then let me see it,” Emily said.
Brian hesitated. Lauren shrank into her chair, chewing her lip. The notary, clearly not new to family drama, took off her glasses and looked at Brian carefully.
“Sir, if your wife is stating that the power of attorney is forged, I cannot proceed with this transaction. I would need proof that the document is valid.”
“Proof? Here it is,” Brian said, yanking a sheet from the folder and waving it in the air.
Emily stepped forward.
“Let me look.”
She took the paper, glanced over it, and gave a short, humorless smile. The signature looked close. Very close. But she knew her own signature better than anyone. There was one small loop in the capital E she always made, almost without thinking. It wasn’t there.
“This is not my signature,” Emily said clearly, looking straight at the notary. “I’m willing to submit to any handwriting analysis you want. And I have witnesses who can confirm that my husband planned this fraud. He intended to leave me without my home, without money, and carrying debt we took on together.”
Brian went white. Lauren let out a small, panicked sound.
“Emily, listen—” he started, taking a step toward her…
