Chapter 6: The Hard Way
Daniel's lawyer contacted Rebecca by noon.
His name was Graham Fitch — a partner at a firm that specialized, Rebecca told me, in high-asset divorce defense.
Not a family law generalist.
A specialist.
The kind you retained when you had something significant to protect.
"He moved fast," I said.
"He was scared," Rebecca said.
"Scared people move fast." She set a printed email on the table between us.
"Fitch is proposing a settlement conference.
Informal.
No court involvement yet.
He wants to sit down within the week."
"Why?"
"Because Daniel knows what we have.
And he knows that if this goes to discovery, it gets much worse for him." She folded her hands.
"He wants to contain it."
"And if we go to the conference?"
"We listen.
We don't agree to anything.
We let them show us what they're willing to offer, which tells us how frightened they actually are."
I looked at the email.
"What about the wire fraud question?"
"I've referred that to a colleague who handles financial crjmes.
That's a separate track.
The divorce proceeds regardless." She paused.
"But Rachel, I want you to understand something.
If the federal question moves forward, Daniel's exposure becomes very serious.
He may try to use the divorce settlement as a way to buy your silence on the larger issue."
I looked up.
"He can't do that."
"No.
But he'll try." She held my gaze.
"When that offer comes — and it will come — I need you to be ready to say no to a number that might feel very large."
I thought about Joanna Reyes on a plane to Chicago.
Her signature on a document she hadn't understood.
Her career quietly dismantled.
"I'll be ready," I said.
The settlement conference was scheduled for Thursday.
I spent the two days before it at Natalie's apartment, sleeping in her guest room, wearing borrowed clothes, eating whatever she put in front of me.
She didn't press me to talk.
She just made sure I ate.
Made sure I slept.
Sat beside me on the couch in the evenings without filling the silence with noise.
On Wednesday night, she handed me a glass of wine and sat down across from me.
"How are you actually doing?" she asked.
"I keep thinking about the fifth anniversary," I said.
"Diane told me he was at a hotel in Cambridge that night.
That she booked the room." I looked at my glass.
"I made dinner at home.
I thought he was in a client meeting.
I waited until nine o'clock and then I ate alone and told myself it was fine."
Natalie didn't say anything.
"Five years," I said.
"Not just this one."
"Rachel—"
"I'm not falling apart." I looked up.
"I just want to say it out loud to someone.
That it wasn't one bad year.
It was the whole thing." I paused.
"I want to know that I'm allowed to be angry about that."
"You're allowed," Natalie said.
Her voice was very quiet.
"You're allowed to be furious."
Something in my chest loosened.
Not dramatically.
Just slightly.
Like a knot that had been pulled one degree less tight.
"Thank you," I said.
"Don't thank me.
I'm furious on your behalf and I've been sitting on it for two days."
I almost smiled.
"I know."
"The dress," she said.
"Rachel.
You bought a dress."
"I know."
"For a man who was at a hotel."
"Natalie."
"I'm just saying.
The dress deserved better."
This time I did smile.
Small and tired, but real.
She refilled my glass without asking.
Thursday arrived gray and cold.
Rebecca met me in the lobby of a building in the financial district.
We rode the elevator up together without speaking.
On the eighteenth floor, we were shown into a conference room with a long glass table and a view of the harbor.
Daniel was already there.
He was wearing a dark suit.
His hair was neat.
He looked, from a distance, exactly like the man I had married.
He looked up when I walked in.
Something crossed his face — not guilt exactly, but recognition.
The specific recognition of a person seeing the full shape of a situation for the first time.
Graham Fitch stood and introduced himself.
Smooth.
Practiced.
Daniel did not stand.
I sat down across from him for the first time since the night he had kissed my forehead and left to handle Claire.
"Rachel," he said.
"Daniel," I said.
Fitch opened a folder.
"We appreciate you coming in.
We'd like to begin by discussing the asset question, specifically the investment transfers your attorney has characterized as—"
"Before we discuss assets," Rebecca said, "we'd like to hear your client's explanation for the shell company."
Fitch didn't blink.
"That's a matter we'd prefer to address in the context of the overall—"
"It's not a preference we share," Rebecca said pleasantly.
Daniel's jaw tightened.
Fitch set down his pen.
"Mr.
Whitmore established that consulting arrangement for legitimate business development purposes.
The funds were—"
"The funds were transferred through a Delaware entity with no registered business activity, no clients, and no revenue," Rebecca said.
"And one of the signatory witnesses has provided a sworn statement that she was told she was signing a routine document and had no understanding of the company's actual purpose."
Fitch looked at Daniel.
Daniel looked at the table.
"We're prepared," Fitch said carefully, "to discuss a full resolution of the marital estate that would make Mrs.
Whitmore whole in a way that—"
"We're not here to be made whole," Rebecca said.
"We're here to understand what your client is prepared to acknowledge."
A long silence.
Daniel looked up.
Not at Fitch.
At me.
"Rachel." His voice was lower now.
Private, despite the room.
"Can we just — for one minute — talk without the lawyers?"
"No," I said.
"I made mistakes.
I know that.
But what you're doing—"
"What I'm doing," I said, "is exactly what you would have done if the situation were reversed.
You'd have protected yourself.
You'd have moved money.
You'd have hired the best attorney you could find." I held his gaze.
"The only difference is that you thought I wouldn't."
His mouth closed.
Fitch leaned toward him and said something quietly.
Daniel shook his head once.
Then he looked back at me with the cold expression I had heard in his voice on the phone.
"You want to do this the hard way," he said.
"Fine.
But understand — if this goes to full litigation, everything comes out.
Your finances.
Your relationships.
Everything."
Rebecca's hand was already on her notepad.
"My client has nothing to hide," she said simply.
"Do you have a settlement offer, Mr.
Fitch, or shall we schedule the deposition dates?"
Fitch looked at Daniel.
Daniel looked at me.
Then he picked up his phone from the table, stood, and walked out of the conference room without another word.
Fitch gathered his papers.
"We'll be in touch."
When they were gone, the conference room was very quiet.
Rebecca looked at me.
"He'll make an offer by Friday."
"And if it's not enough?"
"Then we go to discovery." She closed her folder.
"And everything Diane and Joanna gave us goes on the record."
I looked out at the harbor.
May you like
The water was flat and gray and very still.
"Let him think about that," I said.
