Neither of us spoke for several seconds.
Then I asked him something else.
“Did Melissa know I was pregnant before dinner?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
But I thought about those packages.
Prenatal vitamins.
Loose jeans.
The pregnancy book.
Melissa had been inside our apartment several times that week.
She routinely opened cabinets, shifted our mail around, and touched things that didn’t belong to her.
One of the packages had been delivered while I was grocery shopping.
When I came home, it was already inside the foyer.
I had assumed Grant brought it in.
He hadn’t even been home.
I looked at him.
“Ask your sister what she saw inside my package.”
Melissa denied knowing anything.
Then denied it a second time.
Eventually, Jason helped us discover what had happened.
Tyler had taken a photo on his phone the afternoon Melissa discovered my pregnancy book.
He had been photographing their dog near our couch.
In the background, Melissa was visible.
The pregnancy book was in her hands.
The timestamp showed that the picture had been taken six days before the dinner.
When Naomi confronted Melissa’s lawyer with that evidence, her story began to unravel.
Melissa finally admitted she had told Diane.
Still, she insisted the divorce discussion had nothing to do with the pregnancy.
According to her, Diane had only remarked that Rachel was “probably going to trap Grant with a baby.”
Grant demanded to know why his own mother had spoken about his unborn child like that.
Diane refused to explain herself.
Then the trust paperwork arrived.
And all of us finally understood.
Edward Mercer had included an unusual clause.
Diane could continue acting as trustee for as long as Grant remained childless.
But once Grant had a living child, control of the trust would automatically transfer to an independent corporate trustee—and a complete forensic audit of Diane’s management would be mandatory.
Not something anyone could decline.
Mandatory.
The accountant would have to examine every withdrawal, reimbursement, loan, and related-party transaction made since Edward’s death.
Diane had never been frightened of my baby.
She had been frightened of the audit my baby would cause.
I sat in Naomi’s conference room staring at the language.
“So she wanted us divorced.”
Naomi kept reading.
“More than that.”
She pointed lower on the page.
Edward had considered the possibility that Grant might divorce before becoming a parent.
The audit requirement still applied to any biological child Grant legally acknowledged.
Divorce made no difference.
I nearly laughed.
“So her plan wouldn’t even have worked.”
Naomi’s expression tightened.
“It would have if Grant denied paternity long enough to delay the triggering event.”
My stomach turned.
Suddenly Melissa’s immediate response when I showed the ultrasound—
You’re lying—
didn’t feel spontaneous.
