Chapter 7
Trial day.
I wore a navy dress. My father's Timex on my wrist.
Delia squeezed my shoulder.
"Ready?"
"As I'll ever be."
Nolan walked in. He had lost weight. His suit was too big. He didn't look at me.
His lawyer was expensive. The kind who charges $600 an hour. I wondered how Nolan was paying him.
Probably with the last of the embezzled money.
The lawyer's opening statement was predictable.
"Claire Mercer agreed to a financial arrangement. She signed documents. She benefited from the marriage. Now she's unhappy and she wants a payday. Don't let her rewrite history."
Delia's opening was shorter.
She held up a blown-up image of a Venmo request.
$1.94.
"Five years of marriage. This is what it came down to. A man who earns four times his wife's salary charges her a dollar ninety-four for laundry detergent. While she hand-washes his clothes."
She put down the image.
"You'll see the deeds. You'll see the forged signatures. You'll see the secret LLC. You'll see the mistress. You'll see the embezzlement. And you'll understand. This wasn't a marriage. It was a heist."
The jury leaned forward.
Day one was documents.
The deed. The HELOC. The LLC. The retirement account. The savings. The Cabo receipts.
Delia presented each one calmly.
Nolan's lawyer objected. Over and over.
The judge overruled. Over and over.
Day two was witnesses.
Lana Brooks testified.
She told the jury about the affair. About the condo. About the Cayman account. About Nolan saying, "Once Claire signs the divorce papers, the house is ours."
Nolan stared at his shoes.
The handwriting expert testified.
The signatures on the HELOC and the retirement distribution were forged. Same pen. Same hand. Not Claire Hayes's natural signature.
Nolan's lawyer tried to discredit him.
The expert didn't flinch.
Ray testified.
He told the jury about my father. About the phone call. About a man who worked hard and loved his daughter.
One juror wiped her eye.
Day three was my turn.
I took the stand.
Nolan's lawyer attacked me for two hours.
Why did you sign the documents? Why didn't you check the accounts? Why did you agree to the 50/50 split? Why did you stay for five years?
I answered every question.
Because I was grieving. Because I trusted my husband. Because I was twenty-five and in love. Because I didn't know.
Then Delia asked me one question.
"Miss Hayes. When your husband sent you a Venmo request for $1.94 for laundry detergent, after you had hand-washed all of his clothes, what did you think?"
I looked at the jury.
May you like
"I thought I didn't have a husband. I had a business partner. And the business was him."
The courtroom was silent.
