Chapter 8 - Clearing the Soil
The aftermath was swift and uncompromising.
Over the next three months, the truth came out in full force. Grant’s corporate firm collapsed under the weight of criminal charges and civil lawsuits from Blackwood Development. With Arthur handling my legal representation, I filed for an immediate divorce on the grounds of fraud and grand larceny.
Because the forgery was criminally proven, the judge threw out any claims Grant made regarding marital property assets. Not only did I retain 100% ownership of Fernwick, but the court also ordered Grant’s remaining liquidated assets to be used to pay restitution to my estate for the funds he had secretly diverted.
Lenora was forced to move into a modest two-bedroom rental apartment three towns over, abandoned by her wealthy socialite friends who wanted nothing to do with the scandal.
One crisp autumn morning, four months after the garden party, I stood on the porch of the main house holding a cup of hot tea. The leaves on the maple trees had turned brilliant shades of crimson and gold.
A flatbed truck pulled up the driveway, carrying a crew of workers. They weren't developers coming to tear down my life; they were master builders I had hired to restore the old stone carriage house and expand the northern greenhouse into a public community garden and botanical research center.
Arthur walked up the porch steps, carrying a bottle of sparkling apple cider.
"Final divorce decree came through this morning," he said, handing me a stamped court document. "You are officially Mara Vance again. Single, debt-free, and sole owner of seventy pristine acres."
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I took the document, feeling an immense weight lift off my shoulders. "Thank you, Arthur. For everything."
"You did the heavy lifting, Mara," Arthur smiled, looking out over the valley. "You built this place with your own hands. Nobody was ever going to take it from you."
