My mother tried to give my penthouse to my sister in the middle of her wedding reception - minhtrang

“I love you too, Grandma.”

She climbed into the car with Marcus’s assistance. I watched as it pulled away, disappearing into the Boston night.

I stood alone on the sidewalk for a long time.

My phone buzzed.

A text from Daniel Reeves.

Just saw the Globe’s legal-beat guy tweet something cryptic about a prominent Boston attorney. Was that—

I typed back:

I’ll explain later. Thank you for everything.

Another text.

This one from a number I didn’t recognize.

Paige, it’s Jennifer Thompson from Becker Legal. We were at the wedding. I owe you an apology. I believed things I shouldn’t have. If you’re ever interested in discussing design work for our new office, please call me.

I stared at the screen.

Jennifer Thompson, one of the women I’d seen whispering with Patricia Holloway earlier that evening, now offering me business.

I wasn’t sure if I’d call her, but I saved the number.

Then I put my phone away, pulled my coat tighter against the cold, and walked toward the parking garage.

For the first time in three years, I felt like I could breathe.

The fallout was swift and measured.

Two weeks after the wedding, Victoria Harrison was summoned to the Suffolk County District Attorney’s Office for questioning regarding the Cape Cod property sale. The interview lasted four hours.

When she emerged, according to what Marcus later told me, she looked ten years older.

Her attorney, a colleague from her tennis club who’d originally agreed to represent her, withdrew from the case within days, citing conflict of interest.

The real reason, I suspected, was that he’d seen the evidence and wanted nothing to do with a losing battle.