Chapter 12 - The Poisoned Well
By noon, Dad was sitting at our kitchen island, staring at the legal documents through his reading glasses. The lines around his eyes were deeper than they had been that morning, but the haunted, broken expression he used to wear around my mother was nowhere to be seen. Instead, there was a grim, steely resignation.
"It’s nonsense," Dad said, setting the papers down with a sharp slap. "Richard is drowning in debt. His firm dropped him as a senior partner three months after the divorce went through, and Eleanor’s lifestyle has burned through whatever liquid capital she had left. They’re grasping at straws, Clara."
"They aren't just grasping at straws, Dad," I replied, pointing to clause four on the third page. "They're claiming that the family commercial properties—the ones transferred to your name twenty years ago—were encumbered by an undisclosed partnership agreement signed with Eleanor’s father. They’re claiming fraud. If the judge grants an injunction, your accounts will be frozen until an independent audit is completed."
Liam leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest. "How long does an audit like that take?"
"Six months to a year," Dad muttered. "Which means my shipyard restoration project goes under. The bank will pull the construction loan if my collateral is tied up in litigation."
That was Eleanor’s signature move. She didn't need to win the lawsuit; she only needed to strangle our oxygen until we surrendered just to make the choking stop. For decades, she had used financial leverage to control Dad, me, and my sister, Julianna. Julianna had sold her soul for mother’s approval and my husband’s pathetic bed; now, it seemed Eleanor had recruited Richard into her final desperate siege.
"We aren't settling," I said firmly, looking between Liam and my father. "Not a dime. Not an apology. We gave them the truth in court, and if they want another public spectacle, we’ll give them that too."
"You don't understand the depths Eleanor will sink to when she’s cornered," Dad warned quietly. "She doesn't care if she ruins herself, as long as she takes us down with her."
My phone buzzed on the granite counter. The screen lit up with an unknown number from our old area code.
Liam reached for it, but I caught his wrist, shaking my head. "If I run now, I’ll be running for the rest of my life."
I slid my thumb across the glass and pressed the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
"Clara," a voice purred on the other end. It wasn't Eleanor.
It was Julianna.
My breath caught in my throat. I hadn't heard my sister's voice since the day I found her wrapped in my husband’s arms in Eleanor’s pantry, her red lipstick smeared against his collar while our family toasted Dad’s retirement in the next room.
"What do you want, Julianna?" I asked, my voice as cold as glacial ice.
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"I’m warning you," Julianna said, her voice shaking with an edge of frantic hysteria that sent an instant spike of adrenaline through my veins. "Mother has lost her mind, and Richard is unhinged. If you don't agree to meet with Richard tonight, he’s coming to your house. He knows where you live, Clara. He’s already in town."
***
