The letter was short.
"Jasmine,
This house belongs to me, as it has for the past six years. You may collect your personal belongings on Monday at 10 a.m. A security guard will be present.
Loretta Wallace"
Jasmine read it three times. Then she sat down on the front steps in her expensive dress and screamed.
Monday morning she was in her lawyer's office. Mr. Patel read the documents slowly. Way too slowly.
"Well?" she said.
He took his glasses off.
"Mrs. Wallace, I'll be honest with you. Your husband's mother has owned that house since before you got married. The company went into her name eight years ago, two years before your wedding. The cars are leased through the company."
"So what do I get?"
"Your car. Your jewelry. Your personal savings. And whatever's in the joint checking account."
She grabbed her phone and checked. $4,312.
"That's it?" Her voice cracked. "Six years of marriage and I get four thousand dollars?"
"There's one more problem," Mr. Patel said.
He turned his laptop around.
A video. Shaky. Filmed from across a restaurant table.
It was her. Laughing. "Did you think I married you for love? Who doesn't want money these days?"
"Your husband's lawyer sent this over this morning," Mr. Patel said. "If you go after spousal support, they'll use it."
Jasmine went cold all over.
"Who filmed that?"
He scrolled to the bottom of the email. The video had been forwarded by someone named Kendra M.
Kendra. Her best friend for fifteen years.
Jasmine drove straight to Kendra's place and pounded on the door until it opened.
"Why?" she yelled. "Why would you do this to me?"
Kendra didn't yell back. She just looked tired.
"Because Andre's not the only one you lied to," she said.
This is a fictional story. Names, characters and events are invented. Any resemblance to real people or events is coincidental.
