Chapter 9
The next six months were a blur of court dates, paperwork, and healing.
Norma was denied bail.
The police searched the Mercer house at dawn and found the life insurance policies in the attic, exactly where Daniel had said they’d be.
The feds got involved.
Insurance fraud was a federal crime.
Norma was charged with seven counts of mail fraud, wire fraud, and making false statements on insurance applications. The state added attempted murder, burglary, assault, fraud, harassment, and criminal mischief.
She pled not guilty to everything.
Her lawyer tried to paint her as a grieving widow, stressed out by debt, manipulated by her son and his evil wife.
No one bought it.
The evidence was overwhelming.
The emails.
The texts.
The recordings.
The IP trace on the work email.
The fabric from her cardigan.
The fake lien.
Daniel’s testimony.
My testimony.
The security camera footage of her breaking into my house.
The knife.
The pepper spray.
The jury took three hours to find her guilty on all counts.
The judge sentenced her to twenty-eight years in federal prison.
With good behavior, she’d be eligible for parole when she was ninety.
She’d die in prison.
Daniel got immunity for testifying against her.
The state dropped all charges against him in exchange for his full cooperation.
But his life was over anyway.
His company fired him the day the story hit the news.
No one in the industry would hire him.
The bank foreclosed on the Mercer house. It sold at auction for two hundred and twenty thousand dollars—barely enough to cover the second mortgage and back taxes. Daniel got nothing.
He moved to another state, got a job working construction, and never came back.
I got a letter from him once, six months after the trial.
He said he was sorry.
That he was working hard to be a better man.
That he hoped I could find happiness.
I burned it.
I didn’t owe him forgiveness.
I didn’t owe him anything.
My life, meanwhile, was getting better every day.
HR finished their investigation and cleared me of all wrongdoing. The company issued a public apology, gave me a raise, and promoted me to senior project manager. My team threw me a party when I came back to work. Jake gave me a mug that said WORLD’S TOUGHEST BOSS.
I loved it.
The fake lien was removed from my house.
I got a full refund of all my legal fees from the Mercers’ remaining assets, plus the ten thousand dollars in emotional distress we’d asked for.
I used the money to redo the backyard. Built a deck. Put in a hot tub. Planted more sunflowers.
I fixed the broken window. Upgraded the security system. Made the house feel more like home than ever.
Mia moved in with me for a few months to help me get back on my feet. We had movie nights every Friday, drank too much wine, and laughed until our sides hurt.
She started dating a guy from her gym who was nice and normal and had no crazy mother.
I was happy for her.
I wasn’t dating.
I wasn’t sure I ever wanted to date again.
Then, three months after the trial, I met Liam.
He was a software engineer at my company. We’d worked on a few projects together, but we’d never really talked.
One day, he showed up at my desk with a coffee.
Black.
Exactly how I liked it.
“Heard you’ve had a rough year,” he said. “Figured you could use this. And if you ever want to talk about it—or not talk about it—I’m a good listener. And I make a mean lasagna.”
He was cute.
Tall.
Brown hair.
Blue eyes.
A scar on his left eyebrow from a college hockey accident.
And he was normal.
No crazy mom.
No hidden debt.
No secrets.
I said yes to lasagna.
We started dating.
Slowly.
Carefully.
He never pushed me to talk about the Mercers.
He never got jealous if I wanted to spend the night alone.
He never made me feel like I had to be anyone other than myself.
For the first time in my life, I felt safe.
One night, six months after Norma was sentenced, we were sitting on my porch swing, drinking wine, watching the sun set over the sunflowers.
Liam turned to me.
“I love you,” he said.
I didn’t say it back right away.
I thought about Daniel.
About the vows we’d taken.
About how easily love could turn into a lie.
But then I looked at Liam.
At his open, honest face.
At the way he held my hand like it was something precious.
I thought about the house behind me.
The job I loved.
The sister who’d stood by me through everything.
The life I’d built for myself, brick by brick, after the Mercers had tried to tear it all down.
I was strong now.
I was whole.
I didn’t need anyone to save me.
But I could choose to let someone love me.
“I love you too,” I said.
He smiled.
Leaned in.
Kissed me.
Somewhere, a bird sang.
May you like
The wind rustled the sunflower leaves.
For the first time in a long time, I felt completely, utterly at peace.
