Chapter 3 - The Financial Hostage
The hospital social worker, a kind but no-nonsense woman named Mrs. Higgins, didn't waste time. By the next morning, she had connected me with Eleanor Vance, a powerhouse family law attorney who did pro-bono work for victims of domestic abuse.
Eleanor walked into my hospital room wearing a sharp gray suit, carrying a thick leather briefcase, and radiating an aura of absolute authority.
“Let’s skip the pleasantries, Rebecca,” Eleanor said, pulling up a chair. “Your husband just filed an emergency ex-parte motion for sole custody of Emma. He’s claiming you are physically incapacitated, mentally unstable due to the trauma of the crash, and that your sister kidnapped his child.”
The air left my lungs. “He’s lying. I told Maya to get her because he assaulted me!”
“I know,” Eleanor said smoothly. “Dr. Evans provided the security logs and the photos of your bruised arm. We have the hospital on our side. But Caleb is playing a dirty game. He’s freezing the assets.”
“The assets?” I frowned. “We have joint accounts. I used to be an accountant, I managed all our money before I quit to raise Emma.”
“When was the last time you actually looked at those accounts, Rebecca?”
I hesitated. Caleb had taken over the banking three years ago, claiming he wanted to "take the burden off my plate." Whenever I asked for the passwords, he started fights, accusing me of not trusting him. To keep the peace, I had let it go.
Eleanor opened her briefcase and handed me a tablet. “I ran a preliminary background check on your joint financials. Your savings account is empty. The college fund you started for Emma? Drained. And your house has a second mortgage on it that was taken out six months ago.”
I stared at the screen, the numbers blurring through my tears. “No. No, that’s impossible. Caleb makes a good salary. Where did it all go?”
“That’s what we need to find out,” Eleanor said, her eyes narrowing. “Usually, when a spouse drains accounts this aggressively, it’s one of three things: an addiction, a mistress, or a massive hidden debt. Given his sudden, violent desperation to get you out of this hospital and avoid medical bills, my bet is he owes money to people who don't send polite collection letters.”
My mind raced. The late nights Caleb spent "working." The strange, encrypted USB drive he kept locked in his desk drawer, the one he swore was just "company tax documents."
“He’s hiding something,” I said, my voice hardening. “Something big. He always guards his home office like a fortress.”
“Well, he’s currently barred from the family home due to the temporary restraining order I filed this morning,” Eleanor smiled, a predatory gleam in her eye. “Which means the house is empty.”
May you like
I looked at Eleanor, then grabbed my phone to call Maya.
“Maya,” I said when she answered. “I need you to break into my house.”
