Chapter 3 - Confrontation at the Office
By the time the police arrived at the apartment, Mrs. Higgins had already been escorted out, crying hysterically as she was forced to change back into her own clothes in the building’s service elevator. The police officers took my statement, photographed the forged documents, and secured the manila envelope as state evidence. However, the detective on duty, Detective Miller, warned me that arresting Thomas immediately would be difficult since the documents hadn't been formally submitted to the county court yet—they were still held within the private files of Apex Legal.
“He’s building the trap, Ms. Sterling,” Detective Miller told me before leaving. “But until he tries to execute the fraud publicly, it’s a domestic property dispute. We need hard evidence that he orchestrated the forgery himself.”
I didn't want to wait for the police to build a case over months while Thomas walked free. I wanted answers, and I wanted them now.
The next morning, I didn't go to a lawyer. I didn't hide in a hotel room. I put on my sharpest navy tailored suit, pulled my hair back into a tight, professional bun, and drove straight to the financial district. Thomas worked as a senior portfolio manager at Vanguard Asset Solutions, a prestigious investment firm.
When I walked through the glass doors of the 24th floor, the receptionist looked up in surprise. “Oh, Mrs. Higgins! We didn't expect you back from Pine Valley so soon. Thomas is in a morning briefing with the regional directors.”
“Thank you, Sarah. I’ll wait in his office,” I said, my tone completely calm, giving no indication of the fire storm brewing beneath the surface.
I walked into Thomas’s spacious corner office. The desk was immaculate, featuring a gold-framed picture of us from our honeymoon in Italy—a picture that now felt like a relic from a parallel universe. I sat down in his leather chair, placing my two suitcases firmly beside the desk, and waited.
Twenty minutes later, the door swung open. Thomas walked in, laughing as he chatted with a colleague. He looked exactly as he always did—handsome, neatly groomed, wearing a bespoke suit that my bonuses had helped pay for.
When his eyes landed on me sitting in his chair, the laugh died instantly in his throat. His face went completely white.
“Alice...” he stammered, quickly closing the office door behind him and locking it. “What... what are you doing here? When did you get back?”
“I got back last night, Thomas,” I said, leaning forward and resting my chin on my laced fingers. “It was a very interesting homecoming. Your mother was wearing my clothes, drinking from my mug, and telling me that my apartment belonged to the two of you.”
Thomas tried to recover his composure, a familiar, condescending smile sliding onto his face. “Oh, come on, Alice. You know how my mother is. She exaggerates. She was just staying there to keep an eye on the place while you were gone. I thought it would be nice for her to get out of her cramped house for a bit.”
“Really?” I pulled a photocopied sheet of the life insurance policy and the forged property deed out of my bag, sliding them across the glass desk. “Is this also part of her exaggeration? Or is this your personal financial strategy?”
Thomas looked down at the papers. The color didn't just leave his face; he looked as if he were about to physically throw up. He dropped his leather folder onto the floor.
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“Alice... I can explain,” he whispered, his voice cracking as he looked frantically toward the glass walls of his office, terrified that his colleagues would see his breakdown.
“Explain what, Thomas? Explain that you forged my signature to steal my pre-marital asset? Or explain why you think my life is worth two million dollars to a law firm called Apex Legal?” I stood up, slamming my hands onto the desk, leaning in until he was forced to look me in the eyes. “You have forty-eight hours to pack every single piece of your garbage out of my apartment. If I see a single sock belonging to you or your mother by Wednesday morning, I am taking these originals directly to your managing partner—and then to the district attorney.”
