Nick huffed, pulled out another cigarette, but didn’t light it. He just rolled it between his fingers.
— They’re filing a police report tomorrow. “Parental kidnapping” sounds crazy, but they’ve got the paperwork ready. Linda’s been calling in favors. The local precinct commander is an old friend of hers. She’s got someone in Child Services on speed dial, too.
— And the assets? The car? The house?
— They’re trying to flip the SUV to a wholesaler today—quick cash, no questions asked. The house has already been used as collateral for a loan for “Andrew’s Investment Group.” Vince is the director of the shell company.
Dave listened, and the puzzle pieces clicked. They were moving fast, which meant they were nervous. Fear leads to mistakes, and mistakes lead to evidence.
— What do you want in return?
Nick finally lit the cigarette, taking a long drag.
— They owe me five grand. For three years of… well, doing their dirty work. When this is over, I want you to help me get what’s mine. Legally. I want to sue them for back wages and I need a lawyer who won’t be intimidated.
— Deal.
That night, Dave moved Sarah and Nathan to his cousin’s place. Bill was out of town for the summer and had left Dave the keys to his condo. It was a gated community—quiet, secure, and full of retirees who minded their own business. Dave borrowed a car from one of his mechanics, took the long way around, and doubled back twice. Paranoia? Maybe. Но after Nick’s visit, he wasn’t taking chances.
Bill Miller, Dave’s cousin and a sharp attorney, showed up the next morning. He was a lean man with the focused gaze of someone who’d seen enough human greed to never be surprised. He laid out a notepad and a digital recorder on the kitchen table.
— Sarah, we’re going to go through the facts. Amounts, dates, exact quotes. Take your time.
Next came Frank Rossi, a former forensic accountant Dave had known for years. He nodded to Dave and opened his laptop.
— Names, bank info, estimated transaction amounts. When was the last time you logged into your mobile banking?
Sarah’s voice was quiet, but it was stronger than the day before. She was starting to realize this wasn’t a nightmare she had to endure alone.
— Vince made me sign things, — she said, twisting her fingers. — He always rushed me, saying it was for the family’s future, that I needed to trust them. I’m not a lawyer. I didn’t know what a quitclaim deed even was.
Frank looked up from his screen:
— It’s a classic move. He works at the title company, uses his access to push through fraudulent filings. They know the system, so they know where the cracks are. But when guys like this get caught, they go down hard. Fraud, notary misconduct, the works.
By noon, Dave’s phone was blowing up. First his sister called, then a nephew, then a number he didn’t recognize. Everyone was saying the same thing.
— Dave, have you seen what’s on Facebook? — his sister’s voice was shaking. — They’re dragging Sarah’s name through the mud in all the local community groups!
Jake Carter, a local investigative blogger Bill knew, sent over some links. It was the same video everywhere: Sarah at the intersection with Nathan, looking disheveled, hand outstretched. The comments were brutal, clearly coordinated: “Another trust fund kid playing homeless,” “She’s a scammer,” “Her dad is a millionaire and she’s doing this for attention.”
— This isn’t organic, — Bill said, scrolling through the feed. — This is a PR hit. A bot farm or a paid service. Someone paid to destroy her reputation before we even get to court.
Dave knew exactly who. Linda. The former principal, a master of school-board politics and character assassination, was playing for keeps. If it went to a custody battle, the public narrative was already set against Sarah.
Sarah saw the video and turned so pale Dave thought she might faint.
— If people believe this… — she whispered, clutching Nathan. — They’ll take him away. They’ll say I’m an unfit mother.
— You were asking for help because they threw you out, — Dave sat beside her, gripping her shoulders. — That’s the truth. They’re twisting it because they’re scared. We’re going to prove what really happened.
Two days later, a message arrived on Sarah’s new burner phone—a number only Dave, Bill, and Frank had.
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