Chapter 17 - The Deal Deborah Wanted
Deborah offered prosecutors information in exchange for leniency.
She claimed Travis had been moving money for months.
Some of that was true.
But she added something I had not expected.
Travis had taken out a personal loan using household financial documents.
My signature appeared on one form.
I had never signed it.
The amount was thirty-five thousand dollars.
The money had paid Deborah's previous debts.
When investigators confronted Travis, he admitted it.
He had copied my signature.
Not because Deborah forced his hand.
Because he was ashamed to tell me how much money she needed.
That confession destroyed the last remaining piece of trust between us.
There had been no marriage left to save.
Only paperwork left to finish.
Travis eventually accepted responsibility for the financial fraud separately from the medical-abandonment case.
His attorney negotiated.
Mine prepared the divorce.
Deborah continued blaming everyone.
Richard.
Lauren.
Travis.
Me.
Even Maria.
She claimed Maria had “interfered in a private family matter.”
Maria laughed when she heard that.
“I delivered casseroles.”
She said.
“Apparently I’m dangerous.”
Daniel visited once to check on the babies.
I thanked him for saving us.
He shook his head.
“You kept fighting.”
“I only helped.”
“No.”
I said.
“You opened a door after my husband locked one.”
He didn't know what to say to that.
So he smiled.
A month later, the temporary custody order was reviewed.
Travis did not fight me.
He requested supervised visits.
The first one lasted thirty minutes.
I watched through observation glass.
Travis held Ava carefully.
Then Noah.
He cried the entire time.
Part of me hurt.
Not because I wanted him back.
Because our children deserved a father who had made the right choice before consequences taught him.
Afterward, he approached me with the supervisor present.
“They're perfect.”
He whispered.
“Yes.”
“I’m sorry.”
“I know.”
He looked surprised.
“You believe me?”
“I believe you're sorry.”
“That doesn't mean I trust you.”
He nodded.
“What would it take?”
I looked at him.
“Years.”
“Maybe forever.”
His face fell.
“But that's no longer my problem to solve for you.”
Then I walked away.
That afternoon, Cassandra called me from the courthouse.
“The divorce hearing has been scheduled.”
“Good.”
“There’s something else.”
“What?”
“Richard wants to testify.”
“About what?”
“Deborah.”
I frowned.
“He already gave police everything.”
“Not everything.”
Cassandra said.
“Apparently Deborah kept a journal.”
“And Richard found it.”
My skin prickled.
“What’s in it?”
“A plan.”
“What kind of plan?”
Cassandra's voice hardened.
May you like
“A plan for what she intended to do after the twins were born.”
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