Michael asked the next question.
“What happens after she receives it?”
“She’ll have the opportunity to respond.”
“How long?”
“Ten days.”
Ten days. Ten years had passed quietly. Now everything would move forward in ten days.
“And if she ignores it?” Michael asked.
“Then we file a civil fraud lawsuit.”
I looked down at the letter again.
“And the police?”
“That’s another option,” Rebecca said. “If the evidence supports it, we could also pursue criminal charges.”
Michael crossed his arms.
“Would this evidence be enough?”
Rebecca pointed toward the folder.
“The bank documents. The receipts. The text messages confirming payments. Yes. That’s a strong case.”
She paused before adding something else.
“There’s one more thing we should examine.”
“What?” Michael asked.
“Diane’s finances.”
He immediately understood.
“The lake house.”
Rebecca looked up.
“What lake house?”
Michael opened his laptop and pulled up the property record he had found earlier.
“This one.”
Rebecca studied the screen carefully.
“Owner: Diane Carter. Location: Lake Erie shoreline. Purchase date: August 2017. That’s two years after the payments started.”
“Yes.”
Rebecca leaned back slowly.
“If she used money obtained through deception to purchase property, that property could potentially be used to recover the funds.”
The idea surprised me.
“You mean the court could take it?”
“In some cases, yes.”
Michael closed the laptop.
“So what do we do now?”
Rebecca gathered the papers.
“Now we give Diane the chance to respond.”
She slid the final copy of the letter into an envelope.
“I’ll send this by certified mail today.”
I stared at the envelope. Ten years of payments. Ten years of believing the story Diane had told me. Now that story was about to be challenged.
Rebecca handed me a copy of the letter.
“This is the first step toward accountability.”
Michael placed his hand gently on my shoulder.
“You okay?”
I nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
For ten years, Diane had controlled the story. Now the timeline had changed. Ten days. That was how long she had to respond. As we left the office and walked back to the car, Michael spoke quietly.
“Well, now we wait.”
“Yes.”
But something inside me had already shifted. For ten years, I had quietly followed Diane’s instructions. Now the truth had begun moving forward. And once the legal process begins, it rarely stops halfway. What none of us knew yet was that Diane had already received the letter. And the moment she read it, everything in her world began to unravel.
Ten days can feel very long when you are waiting for someone to respond. After Rebecca Sullivan sent the demand letter to Diane Carter, the house returned to its familiar quiet. Michael stayed with me for several more days before driving back to Indianapolis. But before he left, he made sure I had copies of everything: the bank documents, the receipts, the text messages, and the letter. Every piece of evidence sat neatly organized inside a thick folder on the dining table.
“Just in case,” he said.
After he left, the waiting truly began. Day one passed without a word. Day two. Day three. Each morning I checked my phone, half expecting a message from Diane, but the screen remained silent. By the fourth day, I realized something. For ten years, Diane had always been the one checking on the payments. Now she had disappeared. The silence told its own story. On the fifth day, my phone rang. The caller ID showed a name I had not seen in years.
Diane Carter.
For a moment, I simply stared at the screen. Then I answered.
“Evelyn.”
