Chapter 5 - The House Julian Could Not Take
By Monday morning, Cedar Hollow knew about my divorce.
Small towns do not require official announcements.
They require one person at the grocery store to see your husband with another woman.
By lunch, strangers had decided I was infertile, bitter, unstable, and probably responsible for the collapse of my marriage.
Julian helped.
He posted a photograph online showing himself beside Chloe from months earlier.
The caption said:
Sometimes life gives you the family you were always meant to have.
He did not mention that Chloe had fled his house barefoot.
He did not mention that she was cooperating with my attorney.
He did not mention his fertility report.
People congratulated him.
Eleanor Mercer commented with three blue hearts.
Finally, God answers prayers.
I stared at the screen until Garrison took my phone.
“Don’t.”
“I want to reply.”
“No.”
“I want to post his report.”
“No.”
“I want every person who blamed me to see it.”
“They will.”
“When?”
“When it hurts him legally instead of helping him emotionally.”
I hated that he was right.
Rebecca called at ten.
“Get dressed.”
“For what?”
“Court.”
The emergency hearing lasted thirty-seven minutes.
Julian arrived with two attorneys.
I arrived with Rebecca.
He smiled when he saw my secondhand coat.
Then Rebecca handed the judge copies of the account transfers.
Julian stopped smiling.
The judge ordered one hundred twenty thousand dollars returned to a restricted marital account.
He ordered temporary continuation of my health insurance.
He ordered Julian to provide access to personal belongings inside the house.
Then Rebecca stood.
“One additional matter, Your Honor.”
Julian’s lawyer objected before she even spoke.
The judge frowned.
“Counsel, you don’t know what she’s going to say.”
“I believe I do.”
Rebecca smiled.
“Then this should be interesting.”
She presented the title records.
I had assumed the house belonged to Julian because he always called it his.
He had bought it two months before our wedding.
At least, that was what he told me.
But the deed showed something different.
The property had been transferred into a marital trust three years later.
Both names.
Equal beneficiaries.
I stared at Julian.
“You told me I had no claim.”
He looked away.
The judge ordered temporary shared ownership rights and prohibited Julian from excluding me without agreement.
Outside the courthouse, reporters waited.
I froze.
“Why are they here?”
Rebecca looked annoyed.
“Someone tipped them off.”
Julian walked out behind us.
Immediately, one reporter shouted, “Mr. Mercer, is it true your wife is trying to interfere with your unborn child?”
He stopped.
Of course he stopped.
“This is a painful private matter,” Julian said solemnly. “I just want to protect Chloe and our baby.”
I nearly laughed.
Rebecca grabbed my arm.
“Keep walking.”
Another reporter called, “Mrs. Mercer, did you fake medical records to damage your husband?”
That made me stop.
Julian’s eyes flickered.
There it was.
He had planted the accusation first.
I turned.
“No.”
Rebecca whispered, “Emma.”
But I looked directly at the cameras.
“For six years, I was told I was responsible for our infertility. I recently discovered medical records suggesting my husband received a diagnosis he never disclosed to me.”
Julian’s face changed.
I continued.
“Those records will be handled through the appropriate legal process.”
Then I walked away.
By evening, the clip had spread through Cedar Hollow.
For the first time, people stopped congratulating Julian.
They started asking questions.
At seven, Eleanor appeared at Garrison’s farmhouse.
She did not knock politely.
She pounded.
Garrison opened the door.
She pushed past him.
“Where is she?”
I stepped into the hallway.
Eleanor looked exactly as she always had.
Pearl earrings.
Perfect hair.
Expensive beige coat.
Controlled fury.
“You humiliated my son.”
I almost smiled.
“He left my fertility records on a table and called our marriage a bad investment.”
“You know what I mean.”
“No. Explain it.”
She lowered her voice.
“You spoke publicly about private medical information.”
“His medical information?”
Her eyes changed.
One tiny movement.
But I saw it.
“You knew.”
She said nothing.
“You knew Julian was infertile.”
“That is a vulgar word.”
“Interesting. You never thought infertile was vulgar when you used it about me.”
She stepped closer.
“A woman can survive gossip.”
“What about miscarriages?”
Her face went still.
Behind me, Garrison moved slightly.
Eleanor noticed him.
“You.”
He said nothing.
“I told Charles years ago that you were dangerous.”
Garrison’s jaw tightened.
“You remember me.”
“Everyone remembers a man who tried to destroy respectable families because he couldn’t manage his own.”
The cruelty of it shocked even me.
Garrison did not react.
But I did.
“Leave.”
She looked at me.
“I came to offer you something.”
From her handbag, she removed an envelope.
Inside was a cashier’s check.
Five hundred thousand dollars.
My pulse kicked.
“For what?”
“You drop the divorce claims involving medical records. You sign a confidentiality agreement. You stop speaking to Chloe. You leave Cedar Hollow.”
I stared at the number.
Six years ago, I might have mistaken it for freedom.
Now it looked like admission.
“Why does Chloe matter?”
Eleanor’s fingers tightened around her handbag.
“She is carrying my grandchild.”
“No, she isn’t.”
The room froze.
I watched Eleanor’s face.
She knew.
Again.
“You knew that too.”
“That girl is confused.”
“She says the baby came from donor insemination.”
Eleanor’s expression hardened.
“Pregnant women say many emotional things.”
Garrison stepped forward.
“Get out.”
She turned toward him.
Then smiled.
“Still pretending you don’t know what happened to Sarah?”
The blood drained from Garrison’s face.
My heart slammed.
Eleanor walked to the door.
Before leaving, she looked at me.
“You think Julian is the monster in this story.”
She paused.
“He learned from someone.”
Then she left.
I stared at the closed door.
“Garrison.”
He did not move.
“What did she mean?”
Nothing.
“Garrison.”
He finally looked at me.
“Julian’s father.”
“Charles?”
“Yes.”
“What about him?”
Garrison’s voice dropped.
“I spent years believing Julian covered up the clinic records.”
He looked toward the envelope on the table.
“But Julian was twenty-nine when this started.”
My skin went cold.
“And?”
“Charles Mercer controlled Bellweather’s insurance contracts.”
I understood.
“You think his father started it.”
“I think Julian may have inherited more than a company.”
The next morning, Rebecca called.
Her voice was unusually tense.
“The state approved access to part of the Bellweather evidence archive.”
My heart raced.
“Did they find my records?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
She went quiet.
“Emma, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“A video file.”
My hand tightened around the phone.
“Of what?”
“Sarah Blackwood.”
I looked across the kitchen at Garrison.
Rebecca continued.
“It was recorded the night before she died.”
May you like
Then she said the part that made Garrison close his eyes.
“Julian Mercer is in the video with her.”
