Chapter 3: The Number He Could No Longer Reach
The next morning, Naomi sat in a private office at her attorney's firm.
The room had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking a quiet street. A glass of untouched water sat beside her handbag.
Zuri was in the children's room down the hall with a caregiver.
Simone sat in the chair diagonally opposite Naomi, reviewing a document on her tablet.
Across the desk sat Daniel Brooks, Naomi's attorney.
He was in his early fifties, wore a navy suit, and had the calm expression of someone who preferred documents to drama.
He opened the envelope.
One page at a time.
Bank statements.
Property records.
Email correspondence.
The refinancing authorization.
Finally, he placed the suspicious signature beside a copy of Naomi's verified signature.
"Mrs. Carter," Daniel said, "did you authorize this refinancing request?""
"No.""
"Did you sign this document?""
"No.""
"Did you give your husband permission to sign on your behalf?""
"Absolutely not.""
Daniel made a note.
"Then we need to establish how this document was submitted and whether any financial institution relied on it.""
Naomi looked at him.
"Can he take the house?""
Daniel folded his hands.
"That depends on the title, the mortgage documents, the source of funds, and the applicable law. We should not assume the property belongs exclusively to him simply because he says so.""
Naomi released a breath.
For months, Adrian had made her feel as though everything they owned was his generosity.
The house.
The cars.
The vacations.
Even the money she had contributed.
He had a way of describing their life as though he had built it alone.
Daniel examined another statement.
"These transfers are also concerning.""
Naomi leaned forward.
"How concerning?""
"Enough that I would advise you not to sign anything he sends you without independent legal review.""
Simone looked up.
"Should we contact the bank?""
"Yes. We should ask them to preserve the records and investigate the disputed authorization. We'll also review whether any accounts need additional safeguards.""
Naomi nodded.
Then she asked the question she had been holding back.
"What about Zuri?""
Daniel looked at her.
"Your daughter's welfare comes first. We can discuss an appropriate temporary parenting arrangement, including safe and documented communication. I would not recommend making assumptions about what a court will decide before we examine the facts.""
Naomi looked toward the hallway.
She could hear Zuri laughing.
The sound made her eyes sting.
"I don't want to keep her from her father," she said quietly.
"I just don't want her growing up believing that love means waiting for someone who never shows up.""
Daniel nodded.
"Then we'll focus on stability, safety, and a clear arrangement.""
He reached for another document.
"One more thing. Has your husband ever threatened to take Zuri away from you?""
Naomi went still.
She remembered an argument from six months earlier.
Adrian had been standing in the kitchen, holding his car keys.
Zuri had been crying because he had missed her preschool performance.
Naomi had asked him to stop making promises he couldn't keep.
He had turned toward her.
"You keep pushing me, Naomi, and one day you'll find out how expensive a custody battle can be.""
At the time, she had thought he was simply angry.
Now the memory felt different.
"Yes," she answered.
Daniel stopped writing.
"What exactly did he say?""
Naomi repeated the sentence.
The attorney wrote it down.
"Do you have any messages or recordings related to that threat?""
"I have the text messages from the argument afterward.""
"Please send them to me. Preserve the original conversations as well.""
Naomi nodded.
For the first time in years, she felt someone was listening without asking her to make her pain smaller.
At 11:42 a.m., Simone returned from the reception area.
"Naomi?""
Naomi looked up.
"Yes?""
"Your new number is active.""
Simone placed a small card on the desk.
A new number.
A new account recovery email.
Updated contact information.
Naomi stared at the card.
It was such a small thing.
Just ten digits.
Yet those ten digits represented a door she could finally close.
"Thank you," she whispered.
Simone sat down.
"Would you like me to transfer your personal contacts?""
"Only the ones I've approved.""
"Understood.""
Daniel closed the folder.
"I'll prepare the initial legal correspondence. Your husband should receive a formal notice directing him to communicate through my office regarding the disputed financial documents and any legal matters concerning Zuri.""
Naomi nodded.
"And the old number?""
"Keep the call logs and messages. Don't delete anything. We can preserve the records as evidence if needed.""
Naomi looked at her phone.
Forty-nine missed calls.
She had kept the screenshot.
Not because she wanted to remember how many times Adrian had called.
Because she wanted to remember what had happened before he started.
At 12:18 p.m., Adrian was sitting in his office.
His assistant stood near the door, holding a folder.
"Sir, I tried her old number again," he said.
Adrian rubbed his forehead.
"And?""
"It went straight to voicemail.""
"Call Simone.""
"I did. She didn't answer.""
Adrian pushed his chair back.
"Then call Naomi's mother.""
The assistant hesitated.
"She said she wasn't comfortable getting involved.""
Adrian slammed his hand against the desk.
"Nobody is comfortable getting involved! That's my wife and my daughter!""
He picked up his phone again.
He opened Naomi's contact.
The last message she had sent was still there.
Please communicate through my attorney.
He stared at it.
Then he typed.
Naomi, stop this. We need to talk like adults.
He pressed send.
The message failed.
He tried again.
Failed.
His jaw tightened.
"What the hell?""
He opened the contact details.
The old number was no longer active.
Adrian stood.
"Get me her new number.""
His assistant looked uncomfortable.
"Sir, I don't think I can access that information.""
Adrian turned sharply.
"You're telling me you can't find my wife's phone number?""
"I'm saying she appears to have changed it.""
Adrian picked up his car keys.
"Then find out where she is.""
At 1:06 p.m., Daniel's office received an email.
The sender was Adrian Carter.
The subject line read:
*URGENT — MY WIFE HAS TAKEN MY DAUGHTER.*
Daniel opened it.
The message was short.
My wife has left our marital home with our four-year-old daughter without my permission. She is refusing to answer my calls. I want her location and immediate access to my child.
Daniel read it twice.
Then he turned his monitor toward Naomi.
She stared at the screen.
Without my permission.
My child.
Immediate access.
Her hands began to tremble.
Simone moved closer.
"Naomi?""
Naomi swallowed.
"He still thinks I need his permission to leave.""
Daniel closed the email.
"Let me handle the response.""
But before he could continue, another email arrived.
This one contained an attachment.
Daniel opened it.
His expression changed.
"Mrs. Carter?""
Naomi looked up.
"What?""
He turned the screen toward her.
It was a scanned legal document.
A proposed emergency custody petition.
Adrian's name appeared at the top.
And beneath it, in bold letters, was a claim that made Naomi's blood run cold:
*THE FATHER ALLEGES THAT THE MOTHER HAS BEEN EXPERIENCING EMOTIONAL INSTABILITY AND IS UNFIT TO MAKE INDEPENDENT PARENTING DECISIONS.*
Naomi stared at the words.
Then she looked at Daniel.
"He is going to tell everyone I'm unstable?""
Daniel's voice remained calm.
"He's making an allegation. That doesn't make it true. We'll review the filing, gather the relevant evidence, and respond through the proper process.""
Naomi's eyes filled.
She wiped one tear away.
Then another.
For a moment, she looked like the woman who had once sat alone at a birthday dinner, waiting for her husband to come home.
But this time, she didn't reach for her phone.
She reached for her daughter's photograph.
Zuri was smiling in it, holding her stuffed rabbit.
Naomi pressed the photograph against her chest.
"Then let him explain something," she said.
Daniel looked at her.
"What would that be?""
Naomi lifted her eyes.
"Why did he suddenly become so desperate to prove I'm a bad mother the same morning he realized I had found the documents he signed in my name?""
The room went silent.
Daniel slowly looked back at the attachment.
Then at the financial records.
Then at Naomi.
"Mrs. Carter," he said carefully, "I think we need to investigate whether these two matters are connected.""
Naomi nodded.
And just as Daniel reached for his phone to contact the bank, Simone's tablet chimed.
A new notification appeared.
It was from the private school's administrative office.
*URGENT: MR. ADRIAN CARTER HAS REQUESTED THE IMMEDIATE RELEASE OF ZURI CARTER'S SCHOOL RECORDS AND PICKUP AUTHORIZATION.*
Naomi stood so quickly that her chair rolled backward.
"He's trying to get to her.""
Daniel picked up his phone.
"Don't panic. We need to contact the school immediately and clarify the authorized arrangements.""
But Naomi was already looking at Simone.
"Call the school.""
Simone grabbed her phone.
Then another notification appeared.
This time, it was a message from an unknown number.
One sentence.
Naomi, you need to know what your husband told the school about you.
May you like
And beneath it was a photograph.
A photograph Naomi had never seen before.
