906 My Sister Said She Was Pregnant With My Husband’s Baby.

Grant handed me a blue cardboard legal folder.

"David’s public defender just sent this over," he said. "He signed the unconditional divorce settlement. No alimony, no claim on your military pension, no claim on your personal savings. He waived all rights to contest in exchange for the prosecutor recommending a medium-security facility instead of maximum."

I opened the folder.

There it was. David Vance’s signature, messy and rushed, scrawled at the bottom of the divorce decree. Five years of marriage, dissolved into four ounces of legal paper.

"Good riddance," Grant murmured.

"More than good," I replied, taking a pen from my pocket and signing my own name with a swift, firm stroke. "It’s clean. A surgical extraction."

I handed the folder back to Grant, feeling lighter than I had in years. The house was protected. David was going to prison. Natalie was currently sitting in the county detention center awaiting arraignment on multiple felony counts of attempted fraud and filing false instruments. The storm that had threatened to wipe out my family had broken against our perimeter, leaving only the wreckage of those who started it.

"What will you do now?" Grant asked, leaning against the wall, his eyes studying me with an warmth that went far beyond professional duty.

"First, I’m getting my father discharged and settled back in his own living room," I smiled, looking out the hospital window at the blue sky above. "Then, I’m going to renovate my kitchen. I’m thinking about tearing down the wall facing the garden."

"I know a guy who’s decent with a sledgehammer," Grant offered with a slow, genuine grin.

"I’ll keep that in mind, Detective."