Chapter 6: The Wedding That Almost Happened
The threatening text had come from Daniel's phone.
Karen confirmed it within twenty-four hours — the number was registered to him.
It was added to the file.
Maya went back to work.
She answered emails, attended meetings, ate lunch at her desk.
Twice, colleagues asked if she was all right.
She said yes.
She meant it, more or less.
There was a particular kind of clarity that came from knowing exactly what you were fighting and exactly what you had to fight it with.
On Thursday evening, her solicitor called.
"Your father responded to the letter before action," Karen said.
"He's denying the signature is forged.
He says you verbally agreed to the transfer and the document reflects your wishes."
"He knows that's not true."
"Of course he does.
He's also retained a solicitor."
Maya sat down.
"Who?"
"A firm called Hatch and Birley.
They've written back requesting a two-week extension before any further action, on the grounds that the wedding is imminent and any legal disruption would cause disproportionate harm."
"Disproportionate harm." Maya repeated it slowly.
"He means to Daniel."
"He means to the situation he created, yes.
My advice is to decline the extension and proceed."
"Decline it."
"I'll have the response out by end of day tomorrow.
In the meantime, I've submitted the fraud referral to the police property unit.
They have the recording.
They have the document.
They've confirmed they will be in contact."
After she ended the call, Maya sat for a long time at Diane's kitchen table.
She thought about the first time she had walked into the empty apartment.
The smell of fresh paint.
The way the afternoon light came through the south-facing window and landed in a long stripe across the floorboards.
She had stood in the middle of the empty room and felt, for the first time in her adult life, that she was standing on ground that was entirely and completely hers.
She had not told her parents about that moment.
She had not told anyone.
She told Diane now.
Diane listened without saying anything.
When Maya finished, she said: "He's never going to understand what he took from you."
"No," Maya agreed.
"He thinks it's just an apartment."
"What is it?"
Maya looked at the table.
"Proof.
That I could do something by myself.
That I didn't need anyone to hand it to me." She paused.
"He gave that to Daniel like it meant nothing.
Because to him, that's all it ever was."
Diane reached across and squeezed her hand once.
Didn't say anything else.
Didn't need to.
On Friday morning, Maya received a call from a number she didn't recognise.
"Ms.
Chen?
This is Detective Constable Farrow from the property fraud unit.
I'd like to arrange a time to take a formal statement."
"Yes," Maya said.
"I'm available today."
She was at the station by eleven.
The detective was a quiet, methodical man in his forties who took notes by hand and asked his questions in a sequence so orderly it was almost soothing.
He played the recording twice.
He examined the document.
He looked at Maya's payment records and made a small, specific note.
When he finished, he looked up.
"Ms.
Chen, I want to be straightforward with you.
The evidence here is clear.
We will be speaking with your father."
Maya nodded.
"I also want you to know — in my experience with cases like this, the individual rarely believes they've done anything wrong.
They tell themselves a story about family loyalty, about what's fair.
It can make them unpredictable when they're confronted."
"I know my father," Maya said.
"Is there anyone who could be there with you if contact is unavoidable?"
"Yes."
"Good." He closed his notebook.
"We'll be in touch within the week."
She walked out of the station into bright, cold autumn air.
Her phone had four missed calls.
All from her brother.
She called him back.
He answered on the first ring.
"Maya.
Call this off.
Please." His voice was not aggressive now.
It was something closer to frightened.
"I didn't know about the document.
I swear I didn't know Dad forged anything.
He just told me it was sorted."
Maya stopped walking.
"You moved my furniture into the hallway, Daniel."
"Dad told me to.
He said you'd agreed."
"And you believed that?
Without asking me?"
Silence.
"Did you call me even once in the past month to ask if I was sure about this?"
No answer.
"Did you ask me anything?"
"I — no." His voice was very small.
"I didn't."
"Because it was easier not to," Maya said.
"Because you wanted the apartment and it was easier to believe Dad when he said it was fine."
"Maya—"
"I'm not calling anything off, Daniel.
This isn't about you.
It's about what Dad did.
But don't tell me you didn't know anything was wrong.
You knew.
You just chose not to look."
She ended the call and kept walking.
Behind her, the station door opened and closed.
Somewhere a bus engine turned over.
The wedding was three weeks away.
Her father had not returned her keys.
Her belongings were still in boxes in the hallway.
May you like
But the police had the recording.
And that recording had her father's own voice saying everything that needed to be said.
