Chapter 10 - The File Called NORA
The twenty-one-million-dollar transfer failed.
The preservation order blocked it.
But investigators traced the device.
My old phone had been used.
It was found twenty-four hours later in a locked drawer inside Margaret’s home office.
Tristan’s mother blamed Derek.
Derek blamed Tristan.
Tristan blamed both of them.
Everyone was suddenly innocent.
Then Derek disappeared.
He missed two scheduled interviews.
His apartment was empty.
His car was gone.
Police found a boarding pass in his trash.
Minneapolis to Toronto.
One way.
Departure: 6:40 p.m.
He never made it.
Airport police stopped him before security.
Inside his carry-on:
Two phones.
Twenty-three thousand dollars in cash.
A passport.
And a portable hard drive.
The drive contained backups.
Emails.
Texts.
Accounting records.
Draft press statements.
One folder was named:
NORA
Inside was a plan.
Not to hurt me physically.
To destroy me publicly.
Draft statements described me as emotionally unstable.
There were suggested rumors about prescription medication.
False.
Claims that I was uninvolved with the boys.
False.
Notes about provoking arguments.
Recording my reactions.
Leaking selected clips.
I felt sick reading it.
Suddenly, the final year of my marriage rearranged itself inside my head.
Every argument Tristan started.
Every time he followed me through the house.
Every time he said something cruel and then pulled out his phone when I reacted.
He hadn’t been documenting our marriage.
He had been producing evidence.
Carlton read the file privately before court resumed.
When he returned, his face had changed.
Judge Callahan asked, “Mr. Briggs?”
Carlton stood.
“Your Honor, I may need to reconsider the scope of my representation.”
Tristan turned.
“What does that mean?”
Carlton ignored him.
Judge Callahan looked at the custody file.
“The guardian ad litem has also completed a preliminary recommendation.”
My heart started pounding.
The judge continued.
“Pending further review, Mason and Lucas will remain primarily with Mrs. Pembroke.”
Tristan stood.
“No.”
“Sit down.”
“They’re my sons.”
“And you will have parenting time.”
“I asked for primary custody.”
“And I am denying that temporary request.”
His face went red.
“This is because of her money.”
Judge Callahan’s voice hardened.
“This is because your children reported fear related to losing their mother, because there is evidence of adult pressure surrounding litigation, and because the court has concerns about manipulation.”
Tristan stared at me.
“You planned this.”
I stood before Leah could stop me.
“No.”
My voice shook.
“You planned this.”
The courtroom went quiet.
“You planned to call me unstable. You planned to make me poor. You planned to convince our sons I couldn’t keep them.”
“Nora—”
“You told everyone I contributed nothing because you thought eventually I would believe it too.”
His face twisted.
“You did leave the company.”
“I left the spotlight.”
“You left me carrying everything.”
I stared at him.
“No.”
“You carried my name to interviews.”
I paused.
“I carried everything else.”
Judge Callahan called for order.
Then the prosecutor’s liaison entered the courtroom and handed the clerk a document.
Judge Callahan read it.
Her face went still.
“Mr. Pembroke.”
Tristan looked up.
“The hard drive contains correspondence relating to the disputed transfer of your wife’s shares.”
Carlton closed his eyes.
Judge Callahan continued.
“One message appears to have been sent from your personal email.”
Tristan said nothing.
The judge read a single line aloud.
Use the mortgage signature. She’ll never know.
Chloe covered her mouth.
I didn’t.
May you like
I just stared at the man I had once trusted with everything.
And for the first time, he looked afraid of me.
