Chapter 11
The drive home was agonizingly quiet. Claire kept her eyes fixed on the road, her knuckles white against the steering wheel, while Leo slept soundly in the backseat, oblivious to the emotional earthquake rocking his universe. When she pulled into the driveway, Ethan’s truck wasn’t there. He hadn’t followed her home. He hadn't chased after her to apologize or talk things through. He had stayed at the job site, choosing timber and drywall over the fractured remains of his marriage. Claire carried the baby inside, the silence of the brightly lit kitchen feeling more oppressive than ever. The white cabinets seemed to mock her, standing pristine and untouched while her life crumbled into chaos. She made a bottle for Leo, fed him, and put him down for his afternoon nap, moving through the motions like a ghost programmed to perform domestic tasks. When she finished, she walked back into the living room and picked up the phone. She dialed Arthur Vance’s office number, her fingers trembling so badly she nearly dropped the receiver. The receptionist put her through after a brief hold. "Mr. Vance, this is Claire Miller," she said, her voice steadying out of sheer desperation. "I need to schedule an appointment. Today, if possible." "Of course, Mrs. Miller," the elderly lawyer replied smoothly. "Can you be at my office by four o'clock?" "I’ll be there," she said, hanging up without waiting for pleasantries. At three-thirty, she woke Leo up, strapped him back into his car seat, and drove downtown to the firm’s wood-paneled offices. Arthur Vance greeted her with a solemn, courteous nod, ushering her into his spacious corner office overlooking the city skyline. She sat across from his mahogany desk, placing the brown envelope containing the original deed right between them. "I want to renounce the sole inheritance," Claire said without preamble, her voice ringing clear and strong in the quiet room. Vance adjusted his wire-rimmed glasses, leaning back in his leather chair with a mildly surprised expression. "Are you quite sure, my dear? Your father’s legal intent was very specific." "My father is gone, Mr. Vance," Claire said, her eyes flashing with quiet fury. "And his paranoia is destroying my family. I want the property transferred into a joint deed with my husband, exactly as it should have been from the start. Draw up the papers." Vance studied her face for a long moment, reading the fierce determination etched into her features. A faint, respectful smile touched the corners of his mouth. "Very well, Mrs. Miller. I will have the documents prepared by tomorrow morning. But I must warn you—your husband will need to sign them as well." Claire stood up, buttoning her coat as she looked down at the lawyer. "Let me worry about Ethan."
