Chapter 3 - What Rose Had Been Telling the TherapistDr. Helen Keller’s office was closed for the weekend.
Michael called anyway.
Voicemail.
Grant tried the emergency number listed in Rose’s paperwork.
Nothing.
Vanessa finally spoke.
“You are making this sound sinister.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“My future wife was secretly discussing my daughter’s therapist with an unknown man.”
“She’s not my therapist.”
“She treats Rose.”
“I recommended her.”
“Why?”
“Because Rose needs help.”
Grant’s eyes narrowed.
“With what?”
Vanessa hesitated.
“Attachment issues.”
Grant nearly stepped toward her.
“Attachment to whom?”
Vanessa did not answer.
Michael intervened.
“What exactly has Dr. Keller diagnosed?”
Grant thought.
“She never gave me a diagnosis.”
“Then what were the sessions for?”
“Helping Rose process her mother’s death.”
Emma had died in a car accident two years earlier.
Rose had been two.
Too young to understand death.
Old enough to understand absence.
Grant remembered endless nights when she woke calling for Mommy.
Then Vanessa came into their lives.
At first, Rose resisted her.
Then gradually she loved her.
Vanessa had celebrated every milestone.
The first hug.
The first bedtime story.
The first accidental “Mommy.”
Grant had cried the night Rose called Vanessa that.
Vanessa had cried too.
Or seemed to.
Now he wondered whether she had already recognized how useful Rose’s trust could become.
Michael asked, “How many times did you attend these therapy sessions?”
Grant frowned.
“Most of them.”
“Most?”
“Vanessa took her twice when I was traveling.”
Vanessa looked away.
Grant’s stomach tightened.
“What happened in those sessions?”
“Nothing.”
“You were alone with Rose and Dr. Keller?”
“Yes.”
“And what did you discuss?”
“Her grief.”
Grant stepped closer.
“What did you tell Dr. Keller?”
“Grant—”
“What did you tell her?”
Vanessa’s patience broke.
“That Rose is overly dependent!”
Grant stared.
“That she panics whenever someone leaves a room. That she constantly asks whether people love her. That she has tantrums.”
“She’s four!”
“She is exhausting!”
The words rang through the room.
Vanessa pressed her lips together.
Grant spoke quietly.
“My daughter lost her mother.”
“And I am not required to spend the rest of my life fixing that.”
Grant stared at the woman he had planned to marry within the hour.
How had he missed this?
Or had he seen pieces and explained them away?
Vanessa needing “adult weekends.”
Vanessa asking why Rose couldn’t stay with Grant’s mother more often.
Vanessa sighing when Rose entered their bedroom after nightmares.
Every moment had seemed small.
Reasonable.
Normal.
Now they formed a pattern.
Michael picked up the phone.
“Keep playing.”
Grant pressed play.
The unknown man said, “Keller thinks the notes are enough.”
Vanessa answered, “Enough for what?”
“To establish that the child is emotionally unstable.”
Grant felt cold.
Vanessa replied, “That isn’t enough. Grant will never send her away.”
“Not voluntarily.”
Silence.
Then Vanessa said, “If he believes she wants to leave, he might.”
Grant froze.
The man laughed.
“That’s brutal.”
Vanessa replied calmly.
“It’s temporary.”
Grant’s face tightened.
The man continued.
“And once she’s living with the grandmother?”
“We make sure she stays there long enough.”
Grant whispered, “My mother?”
Vanessa shook her head quickly.
“That wasn’t the plan.”
Grant looked at her.
“Then whose grandmother?”
Vanessa said nothing.
Michael leaned forward.
“Grant, is Emma’s mother alive?”
Grant went still.
Yes.
Margaret Lewis.
Emma’s mother.
Rose’s maternal grandmother.
Grant had a strained relationship with her.
After Emma’s death, Margaret blamed Grant for encouraging Emma to drive during a storm.
He had not.
But grief didn’t always care about logic.
Over the last year, Margaret had repeatedly asked for more time with Rose.
Grant allowed weekends.
Nothing more.
Vanessa had always acted supportive.
Too supportive.
“You wanted Rose sent to Margaret.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t.”
The recording answered.
The man said, “Margaret already believes Grant is keeping Rose from her.”
Vanessa replied.
“That’s why she’s perfect.”
Grant’s blood ran cold.
The man asked, “Does she know you’re helping her?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Vanessa continued.
“She thinks the therapist is independently concerned.”
Michael cursed quietly.
Grant stared at Vanessa.
“You manipulated Rose’s grandmother too.”
Vanessa’s face was losing color.
“No one has done anything illegal.”
Michael looked at her.
“You may want to stop making legal conclusions.”
Grant played the next section.
There was movement.
A drawer opening.
Paper.
Then Vanessa said:
“Once Margaret files, Grant will panic.”
“And then?”
“He’ll sign anything that looks like it protects Rose.”
The unknown man replied:
“Including our documents.”
Grant stopped breathing.
Their plan had been elegant.
Create fear around Rose.
Use a custody threat.
Present Grant with documents disguised as protection.
Get his signature while he was desperate.
Michael looked grim.
“Do you know what assets could require your signature?”
Grant thought of his company.
Real estate.
The family trust his father established.
Then one memory surfaced.
A week earlier, Vanessa had asked an oddly specific question.
If something happened to Grant, who controlled his voting shares?
At the time, he had laughed.
Now he did not.
Michael asked again.
“Grant. What would someone gain by tricking you into changing your estate documents?”
May you like
Grant looked at Vanessa.
“Control of my company.”
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