Chapter 17
Lauren was arrested three days later.
Not for everything.
Not yet.
The first charges involved forgery, fraudulent notarization, and evidence tampering connected to the documents recovered from her office.
Her attorney called the charges “premature.”
Detective Ellis called them “the beginning.”
Daniel wasn’t arrested that day.
Neither was Diane.
I hated that.
Rebecca reminded me investigations moved in pieces.
“Lauren possessed physical evidence.”
“So did Daniel.”
“They’re building it.”
“He admitted forging documents in front of lawyers.”
“Settlement discussions have evidentiary protections. It’s complicated.”
“I hate complicated.”
“I know.”
I went to work.
That became my answer to everything I couldn’t control.
Hartwell Interiors finished the Beaumont security audit in twelve days.
The report confirmed the confidential email came through compromised credentials after unauthorized access.
Beaumont reinstated us.
Not the full original contract.
Seventy percent.
I accepted immediately.
When I told the staff, they cheered.
Tasha cried.
Marcus pretended he didn’t.
I stood in front of everyone and felt something return.
Not confidence exactly.
Evidence of confidence.
Proof I could still lead while my personal life burned.
Afterward, Marcus entered my office.
“Your salary.”
“What about it?”
“You’ve skipped two pay periods.”
“I told you I would.”
“We’re stable enough.”
“I’m fine.”
He sat down.
“That isn’t the point.”
“Marcus.”
He leaned forward.
“Daniel tried to convince people you were unstable. Don’t respond by proving you can survive without normal needs.”
I stared at him.
He was right.
Again.
I restored half my salary.
He rolled his eyes.
“Compromise.”
“That’s generous for you.”
Then Mom called.
Diane was at her house again.
This time I heard something different in Mom’s voice.
Not fear.
Resolve.
“She wants me to convince you to withdraw cooperation.”
“What?”
“She says Lauren is blaming Daniel for everything.”
“Of course.”
“She says if you keep pushing, Daniel could go to prison.”
I closed my eyes.
“He committed crimes.”
“I know.”
Mom paused.
“I told Diane that.”
I smiled.
“What happened?”
“She cried.”
That surprised me.
“Diane?”
“Yes.”
“Real crying?”
“I think so.”
I drove over.
Maybe I shouldn’t have.
Rebecca would have preferred all contact go through lawyers.
But Diane was Daniel’s mother.
And for six years, she had been family to me too.
She sat at Mom’s kitchen table.
No makeup.
Hair unstyled.
She looked smaller.
When I entered, she stood.
“Sarah.”
“Mom said you wanted to talk.”
Diane looked at Carol.
My mother stayed.
Good.
“I want you to understand Daniel.”
I sat across from her.
“No.”
She blinked.
“I’m not here to understand him.”
“He’s terrified.”
“So was I when I found forged medical documents.”
“He never wanted you hurt.”
“He hurt me.”
“I mean physically.”
“That is a very low standard, Diane.”
Her eyes filled.
“He could go to prison.”
“Yes.”
“You say that so easily.”
“It isn’t easy.”
“You loved him.”
“I did.”
“Then how can you do this?”
The question made me angry.
“I am not doing this to him.”
“You’re cooperating.”
“With an investigation into crimes he committed.”
“You could tell them you signed some documents.”
Mom stood.
“Diane.”
I lifted my hand.
“No. Let her finish.”
Diane looked desperate.
“You could say there was confusion. Marital confusion. Financial confusion.”
“You want me to lie.”
“I want to save my son.”
“You already tried.”
Her face changed.
“You forged records. You entered my company. You owned the LLC that received my house. You threatened my mother.”
“I never threatened Carol.”
“You told her she’d regret choosing me.”
“That was anger.”
“Everything is anger when you need an excuse.”
Diane began crying.
“I lost my husband.”
I went still.
“So did I.”
She stared.
“My husband is still alive, but the man I married doesn’t exist.”
Diane covered her face.
“After Frank died, Daniel became everything.”
I knew that.
Daniel and his father were close.
Frank’s sudden heart attack devastated them.
Diane continued.
“He started Briarwood because it was something Frank always wanted to do. Build homes. Have his own company.”
That explained the emotional attachment.
Not the crimes.
“When you rejected the project, Daniel felt like you rejected his father.”
“I rejected bad numbers.”
“I know that now.”
“You knew it then.”
Diane looked away.
“He was so angry.”
“So you helped him.”
“I thought we were borrowing.”
“You helped fake my medical incapacity.”
She sobbed.
“That was Lauren.”
“You reactivated your old accounting access.”
Silence.
“You downloaded files.”
Silence.
“You signed as witness on a forged power of attorney.”
Finally, she whispered, “Yes.”
My mother gasped.
It was the clearest admission Diane had ever made.
I leaned forward.
“Why?”
“Because Lauren said it would only be used if you tried to block financing.”
I laughed bitterly.
“That’s literally why powers of attorney require consent.”
“I know.”
“Now.”
“Yes.”
I looked at her.
“Did you practice my signature?”
Her face went blank.
That was answer enough.
“Lauren has video.”
Diane started shaking.
Mom sat slowly.
“She filmed me?”
“Apparently.”
Diane’s fear turned to anger.
“That bitch.”
I almost laughed at the absurdity.
“You’re angry she recorded you committing forgery?”
“She told me the camera was off.”
I stared at her.
Then I understood.
Lauren documented everyone because she never intended to share equal risk.
She built herself an escape route.
Diane suddenly looked at me.
“You need to be careful.”
“Why?”
“Lauren kept things Daniel doesn’t know about.”
“What things?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’re lying.”
“No.”
She wiped her face.
“But I once heard her tell him that if Briarwood failed, she had a second buyer.”
“A buyer for what?”
Diane shook her head.
“I thought she meant the property.”
“And now?”
“I’m not sure.”
Before I could ask more, her phone rang.
She looked at the screen and turned pale.
“Who is it?”
She showed me.
Lauren.
Calling from jail through an approved detention phone system.
Diane stared at the ringing phone.
Then whispered, “Why is she calling me?”
May you like
I answered for her.
“Because she knows someone is about to talk.”
