My phone in my purse was capturing every word.
“I’m sure,” I said softly. “That trust structure he set up, the Illinois land trust, it is complex.”
Silence. A profound, deafening silence. Daniel’s face went sheet white. Robert’s fork stopped midair. Jessica looked confused.
“What trust?” Jessica asked.
Daniel found his voice in a strangled sound.
“Emily, what are you talking about?”
“It’s just a standard deed, is it?”
I tilted my head.
“Because my understanding is that in a standard joint tenancy, we both have control. The document I reviewed today says you’re the sole trustee. You have the power to sell our home without my knowledge or signature. Using my money.”
I kept my gaze locked on him.
“Did you know that, Daniel? When we signed, did you know you were getting all the power and I was getting none?”
“Now see here—” Robert began, his voice booming.
“I’m asking your son, Robert,” I said, cutting him off.
My eyes never left Daniel’s crumbling face.
“Of course I didn’t. I mean, the lawyer explained it was for liability, for…”
He stammered helplessly.
“For making sure your family’s investment was secure, regardless of what happened to me?”
I finished the sentence for him.
“Was that the reasoning?”
“Don’t you dare speak to him that way,” Jessica said, shooting to her feet and pointing a finger at me. “You ungrateful little—”
“You tried to make me an indentured servant, and your brother tried to swindle me out of a six-figure investment,” I said flatly, standing as well. The chair legs shrieked against the floor. “I’d say your welcome has been perfectly clear.”
I picked up my purse.
“The engagement is off. Consider this my formal withdrawal from the Keeper of the Heart program. I’ll have my lawyer contact you tomorrow. Daniel, you’ll be hearing from her tonight.”
“Your lawyer?” Daniel squeaked.
“Yes. Chloe Klein of Klein Bower. You’ll want to have yours ready. Probably your dad’s friend, the one who set up this little scam.”
I turned and walked out of the dining room, through the cavernous foyer, and out the front door. I didn’t run. I walked calmly to my car. As I turned the ignition, my phone lit up, not with a call but with a text from a number I didn’t recognize.
“Check the Cook County Recorder site. Now.”
Chloe.
I pulled over a block away, fumbling with my phone. She had texted me a direct link. I clicked it. A new filing on the townhouse. A notice of assignment of beneficial interest, filed that day at 4:58 p.m. Daniel P. Wright had assigned fifty percent of the beneficial interest in the land trust to Robert Wright.
He had given his father half of my house.
My hands shook, but not with sadness. With white-hot, incandescent rage. He had not even waited for the lawyer’s letter. He had panicked and tried to further entrench his family’s control. I hit play on the voice memo I had just recorded. My own voice, cold and clear, filled the car.
“Did you know that, Daniel? When we signed, did you know you were getting all the power and I was getting none?”
His stammering, guilty reply was all the confirmation I needed. I dialed Chloe.
She answered on the first ring.
“You heard?”
