Chapter 7: The Papers She Filed
For a moment, I thought I had misunderstood him.
“She filed what?””
Marcus didn’t answer immediately.
He stood in Jasmine’s living room with his shoulders lowered, staring at the floor.
I stepped closer.
“Marcus.””
He finally looked at me.
“A petition.””
“What kind of petition?””
His jaw tightened.
“My mother has been documenting things.””
A cold feeling moved through me.
“Documenting what?””
“Our arguments. Your messages. Things that happened at the house.””
I stared at him.
“What things?””
He hesitated.
“The dishes.””
I actually laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“She filed something against me because I broke dishes?””
“It’s more complicated than that.””
“Then make it simple.””
Marcus rubbed both hands over his face.
“She’s claiming she doesn’t feel safe around you.””
Jasmine, who had been standing near the kitchen, stepped forward.
“You’ve got to be kidding.””
Marcus looked at her.
“Stay out of this.””
Jasmine’s expression hardened.
“You came into my apartment. Don’t tell me what to stay out of.””
I raised my hand.
“Jasmine.””
She stopped.
I looked back at Marcus.
“What exactly did Denise file?””
He swallowed.
“She spoke to an attorney about seeking a protective order.””
The room went quiet.
I could hear the refrigerator humming behind us.
“And you knew?””
“I found out this morning.””
“Did you stop her?””
Marcus looked away.
There it was again.
Silence.
His favorite answer.
“You didn’t.””
“Aaliyah, she’s my mother.””
“And I’m your wife!””
My voice cracked across the room.
Marcus flinched.
For once, I didn’t lower my voice afterward.
I didn’t apologize.
I didn’t worry whether I sounded angry.
I was angry.
“She stole sixty thousand dollars using my information. She helped you prepare documents involving our house. Now she’s trying to paint me as dangerous, and your answer is still, ‘She’s my mother’?””
Marcus stepped toward me.
“I’m trying to fix this.””
“No. You’re trying to survive it.””
He stopped.
I could see it on his face.
I had finally said the thing he didn’t want to admit.
He wasn’t there because he suddenly understood my pain.
He was there because Denise’s plan had become dangerous for him too.
My phone rang.
Unknown number.
I almost ignored it.
Then something told me to answer.
“Hello?””
“May I speak with Aaliyah Carter?””
“This is Aaliyah.””
“My name is Rachel Bennett. I’m an attorney. I’m calling regarding documents submitted this morning involving Denise Carter.””
I looked at Marcus.
His face drained of color.
“What documents?””
Rachel paused.
“I would prefer to discuss the details privately, but your name appears repeatedly in statements connected to an emergency filing.””
I gripped the phone.
“Statements written by Denise?””
“Some of them.””
Some.
I looked at Marcus.
“Who wrote the others?””
Another pause.
“One appears to be attributed to Marcus Carter.””
Everything inside me went still.
I lowered the phone slightly.
Marcus immediately shook his head.
“Aaliyah, wait.””
I put the call on speaker.
Rachel continued.
“The statement describes a pattern of unpredictable behavior inside the residence.””
Jasmine covered her mouth.
I stared at Marcus.
He looked terrified.
“Tell her,” I said.
“Aaliyah—”
“Tell her right now.””
Marcus looked at the phone.
“I wrote something months ago.””
My stomach turned.
“Months?””
“It wasn’t for court.””
Rachel’s voice remained calm.
“Mr. Carter, if the statement contains your signature, its intended use may not matter.””
Marcus sat down.
He looked like his legs had stopped working.
“I thought it was for insurance.””
I stared at him.
“Insurance?””
“My mother said we needed documentation because you’d been stressed.””
I almost couldn’t speak.
“What did you write?””
He looked at me.
“That we argued.””
“What else?””
“That sometimes you raised your voice.””
“What else?””
His silence told me there was more.
“Marcus.””
He whispered, “That you broke things.””
I felt sick.
“When?””
He didn’t answer.
I remembered a vase I had knocked over accidentally months earlier while moving furniture.
A coffee mug that slipped from my hand.
Normal accidents.
Had Denise turned those into evidence?
Rachel spoke again.
“Aaliyah, I strongly recommend that you preserve every message, email, bank record, and document you have.””
“I will.””
“And do not delete anything.””
“I won’t.””
After the call ended, Marcus tried to touch my arm.
I pulled away.
“Don’t.””
“Aaliyah, I swear I never thought she would use it like this.””
“That’s the problem.””
He looked confused.
“You never thought.””
I walked to the table and gathered the documents.
Jasmine stood beside me.
“What are you going to do?””
I looked at Marcus.
“Exactly what your mother hoped I wouldn’t.””
His face tightened.
“What?””
“Fight back.””
That afternoon, Rachel agreed to meet me at her office.
I brought everything.
Bank records.
Emails.
The house documents.
Screenshots of messages from Denise.
Rachel spent nearly an hour reading quietly.
Then she stopped at one email.
Her eyebrows lifted.
“What?””
She turned the laptop toward me.
“This email wasn’t written by Denise.””
I leaned closer.
It had been sent from Marcus’s account months earlier.
The message contained only one sentence:
“If Aaliyah leaves, make sure she walks away with nothing.””
My throat tightened.
I looked at Rachel.
Then at the date.
It had been sent on our anniversary.
May you like
And beneath it was Denise’s reply.
“Don’t worry. I already know how.””
