There was a certain part of me, standing in that carpeted hotel hallway, that wanted to drive straight back to the house and scream until my throat was raw.

I did not do that.

Screaming would have felt wonderful and accomplished nothing.

Instead I called the one person who could turn everything I was feeling into something that would actually hold up, something that could not be argued away or smiled past.

I called my lawyer.

Chapter 11 — Arthur Vance

Arthur Vance had handled my domestic assets for years while I was overseas, everything on the American side of my life, the house included.

He was the man who had drawn up the purchase, who kept the records, who knew the paperwork of my life better than I did.