Chapter 12: The Deleted Recording
Two days later, I was discharged.
Ava wasn’t.
Leaving the hospital without her was one of the hardest things I had ever done.
I stood beside her incubator for twenty minutes before Claire finally touched my shoulder.
“We’ll be back tomorrow morning.”
“I know.”
“You need sleep.”
“I know.”
“You need to heal.”
“I know.”
But every step toward the elevator felt like I was abandoning my daughter.
Megan promised they would call if anything changed.
I made her promise twice.
Then three times.
Back at Claire’s house, the guest room had changed.
There was a bassinet beside the bed.
Diapers stacked against the wall.
Tiny preemie clothes folded on the dresser.
I started crying.
Claire hugged me.
“I didn’t know whether it would help.”
“It does.”
“You hate it?”
“I love it.”
Vanessa had bought the diapers.
That surprised me.
“She said she didn’t know what else to do,” Claire explained.
I touched the little package.
“I don’t know what we’re doing either.”
Vanessa had moved back to her brother’s place.
The immediate fear of Ryan appearing had decreased now that he was in custody.
But the emotional mess remained.
That afternoon, Rebecca came to Claire’s house.
She brought divorce papers.
I stared at my name.
Emily Carter.
Petitioner.
Ryan Carter.
Respondent.
Nine years reduced to legal categories.
Rebecca sat across from me.
“You don’t have to sign today.”
“Yes, I do.”
“Emily.”
“If I wait because I’m emotional, I’ll always be waiting.”
She studied me.
“Are you certain?”
I looked toward the bassinet.
“Yes.”
I signed.
My hand shook only once.
Rebecca collected the papers.
“There’s another issue.”
“There always is.”
“The insurance policy.”
My chest tightened.
“What did you learn?”
“It was issued through falsified documents.”
“Was anyone at the company involved?”
“An employee may have bypassed procedures.”
“Lauren?”
Rebecca nodded.
“She has retained counsel.”
I closed my eyes.
“Can the policy be canceled?”
“Yes. That process has started.”
“Good.”
“And your trust is secure.”
For the first time in days, I felt genuine relief.
“Completely?”
“Mr. Stein froze all non-routine distribution requests pending direct verification.”
I almost laughed.
“My mother would love him.”
Rebecca smiled.
“She chose well.”
That sentence hurt beautifully.
My mother had chosen well.
Maybe I had not.
But one mistake didn’t erase every good decision I had ever made.
That was something I was beginning to understand.
Rebecca then handed me a list of investor names.
“What is this?”
“People who may have been affected by the Carter Family Growth Fund.”
I recognized twelve names.
Neighbors.
Friends.
Parents from Ryan’s golf club.
A dentist we had used.
A retired teacher who used to live two houses away.
My stomach turned.
“Did they think I was involved?”
“Some did.”
I looked up.
“What?”
“Ryan used your family background in presentations.”
“My family background?”
“Your mother’s estate. Your trust. He referred to you as co-founder in some materials.”
I felt physically ill.
“People think I stole from them.”
“Some may.”
I stood and walked toward the window.
That hurt in a new way.
My identity wasn’t only being stolen legally.
Ryan had used my reputation.
My mother’s reputation.
My name.
I whispered, “I need to tell them.”
Rebecca responded carefully.
“Not individually.”
“Why?”
“Because there’s an active investigation.”
“So I stay silent while people think I helped him?”
“For now, you follow counsel.”
I hated it.
But I knew she was right.
That evening, one investor showed up anyway.
Thomas Reed.
The hardware-store owner.
Claire opened the door.
He stood outside looking exhausted.
“Is Emily here?”
I walked into view.
His expression changed.
Maybe because I had just given birth.
Maybe because I looked nothing like the wealthy criminal partner Ryan had probably described.
“Thomas.”
“I need answers.”
“I know.”
“My wife and I gave Ryan one hundred twenty thousand dollars.”
My throat tightened.
“I’m sorry.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“How can I believe that?”
The question hurt.
“I don’t know.”
He stared at me.
“Your name is on the documents.”
“My signature was forged.”
“That’s convenient.”
Claire stepped forward.
“Enough.”
I raised a hand.
“No.”
Thomas’s eyes filled with anger.
“That was our retirement.”
“I know.”
“You hosted us in your home.”
“I know.”
“You told us Ryan was brilliant.”
I closed my eyes.
“I did.”
“Were you helping him?”
“No.”
“Then how did you not know?”
I looked at him.
Because that question had been haunting me too.
“How did I not know?”
My voice cracked.
“I trusted my husband.”
Thomas scoffed.
“So did we.”
He turned to leave.
I said, “Thomas.”
He stopped.
“I cannot discuss the investigation.”
He looked back.
“But I will tell you one thing. If there is anything legally available to me that can help repay people Ryan harmed, I will not hide it.”
Claire stared at me.
Thomas did too.
“I’m not promising money I don’t have.”
I continued.
“But I am promising I won’t protect him.”
His anger softened slightly.
“Your lawyer told you to say that?”
“No.”
Rebecca would probably be furious.
Thomas nodded once.
Then he left.
Claire shut the door.
“You cannot start giving away your daughter’s security.”
“I know.”
“Your trust is from Mom.”
“I know.”
“You are not responsible for Ryan’s crimes.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
I looked at her.
“No.”
That was the truth.
I carried guilt.
Maybe irrationally.
Maybe unfairly.
But Ryan had used my credibility.
People trusted him partly because I stood beside him.
That didn’t make me guilty.
But it did make me connected.
The next morning, I returned to the NICU.
Ava had gained two ounces.
I celebrated like she had won an Olympic medal.
Megan laughed.
“Two ounces matters around here.”
I held Ava for an hour.
Then my phone rang.
Rebecca.
I nearly ignored it.
But she texted:
Important. Ryan is offering a full proffer.
I called from the hallway.
“What does that mean?”
“He says he will tell investigators where the remaining money went.”
“In exchange for what?”
“A reduced sentence.”
Of course.
“Does he know?”
“He claims he does.”
“Then let him tell them.”
“There’s a complication.”
I closed my eyes.
“What?”
“He says part of the money is in an account investigators haven’t found.”
“How much?”
“About nine hundred thousand.”
My heart raced.
“That could repay people.”
“Yes.”
“Where is it?”
“He won’t say yet.”
Anger flashed through me.
“Then he’s still manipulating everyone.”
Rebecca agreed.
“But investigators believe the account may exist.”
I looked through the NICU window at Ava.
“What does he want from me?”
“Nothing directly.”
That surprised me.
“Then what’s the complication?”
May you like
Rebecca paused.
“The account is apparently in your name.”
