Chapter 4 - An Unexpected Alliance
The laptop contained a digital minefield.
With Marcus—the attorney—on speakerphone guiding us through a secure data transfer, Colleen downloaded the entire contents of Garrett’s hard drive onto an encrypted thumb drive.
There were financial spreadsheets tracking every dollar he spent on both of us, complete with cold, analytical notes comparing our household contributions. There were emails to his mother plotting how to handle "Meline’s inevitable breakdown" once the house was sold out from under me. And, most damning of all, there were digital scans of forged legal documents, loan applications, and power-of-attorney forms bearing my crudely traced signature.
"This is textbook financial fraud and identity theft," Marcus said over the phone, his voice sharp with professional satisfaction. "With this drive, we can freeze every asset he has, slap a lien on his truck, and petition the court for immediate emergency alimony and child support before he even has time to hire a proper defense lawyer."
"What about the house?" I asked, looking around Tanya's modest kitchen.
"We lock the title down today," Marcus replied. "He won't be able to sell a single shingle."
After we hung up, the kitchen fell quiet again. Tanya was sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at a framed ultrasound picture resting on the coffee table.
"What are you going to do?" Tanya asked quietly, not looking up. "About the baby, I mean."
"I’m going to have my baby," I said without a single second of hesitation. "I fought too hard, waited too long, and cried too many tears in fertility clinics to let a coward like Garrett take this joy away from me. This child is mine. And I will protect her—or him—with everything I have."
Tanya’s eyes filled with tears again, but this time, a small, sad smile touched her lips. "I wish I had your strength. I’m so scared. I don't have a job right now, my savings are gone because Garrett told me to put them into a joint account he controlled, and I’m due in three months."
I looked at my sister, and in that silent glance, a mutual understanding passed between us.
"You're not alone, Tanya," I said, walking over to sit on the edge of the sofa beside her. "You were played by the same man, manipulated by the same mother-in-law, and lied to with the same script. We are in this together now."
Tanya looked at me in disbelief. "You want to help me? After everything?"
"Garrett is the one who owes you child support, back rent, and a public apology," I said firmly. "And with this laptop, we are going to make sure he pays every single cent. You didn't know about me, Tanya. And I didn't know about you. The only enemy in this room is the man who thought he could treat women like disposable inventory."
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For the next two hours, the three of us—an intake nurse, a high school art teacher, and a bewildered former accountant—mapped out a counter-offensive that would make military strategists proud.
We weren't just going to divorce Garrett; we were going to dismantle his entire existence brick by brick.
