Chapter 2 - The White Envelope

The mediation room in the downtown courthouse was sterile, cold, and smelled of stale coffee.

I sat next to Diane, wearing a tailored cream suit, my posture perfect. Across the heavy oak table sat Daniel. He looked like a ghost of the man who had stood by the grill a month ago. He had lost weight. His hair was messy. He wore a cheap suit, his eyes darting nervously around the room.

His lawyer, a tired-looking man with a cheap tie, cleared his throat. "My client is willing to sign a quitclaim deed to the Lakewood property, abandoning any claims of marital equity, in exchange for a lump sum alimony payment of fifty thousand dollars."

Diane actually laughed. It was a sharp, terrifying sound.

"Your client," Diane said, pulling a massive binder from her briefcase and dropping it onto the table with a loud thud, "is not in a position to ask for bus fare, let alone fifty thousand dollars."

She opened the binder. "This is a comprehensive forensic audit of Daniel Whitmore’s finances, conducted by my client. It details exactly $142,000 of marital funds that Daniel embezzled into an undisclosed LLC. Furthermore, we have documentation of bank fraud committed prior to the marriage, which my client is legally obligated to report unless a full settlement is reached today."

Daniel went pale. He looked at me, his eyes pleading. "Maya. Please. Don't do this. I’ll go to jail."

"You should have thought about that before you tried to fund a double life with my paycheck," I said, my voice steady and completely devoid of empathy.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, a tear finally escaping his eye. "I am so sorry for how I treated you. I ruined everything."

"Yes," I agreed. "You did."

Diane slid a single piece of paper across the table. "This is the final offer. You waive all claims to alimony, property, and assets. You assume 100% of the debt accrued under your business. In exchange, my client agrees not to proactively forward this binder to the district attorney. Though, if the banks investigate your defaults, that is out of our hands."

Daniel stared at the paper. He had no leverage. He had no family left to bail him out. He picked up the pen, his hand shaking violently, and signed his name.