While I was giving birth, my husband secretly sold my $3 million house and, when I returned with our baby, handed me $200: “Rent a cheap room and leave.” I looked at the money, laughed, and called my lawyer. He still had no idea he had made a much bigger mistake.

Before Christopher could formulate a defense, heavy footsteps bounded up the stone stairs outside. The heavy oak door was shoved open with force, banging loudly against the interior trim.

A man in an ill-fitting leather jacket and slicked-back hair stormed into the foyer. He smelled of cigars and cheap cologne. Two broad-shouldered men in tracksuits hovered right behind him on the porch.

Richard Gallo had arrived.

“Sterling!” Gallo roared, his face mottled red. “What kind of sick game are you playing? My bank called me an hour ago. The county registrar rejected the deed recording! They said the property was already deeded out two weeks ago! The registry clerk laughed in my lawyer's face!”

Christopher stumbled forward, his hands held up in surrender. “Richard—Mr. Gallo—please, keep your voice down! There’s a misunderstanding! Nora is trying to pull something—”

“Who the hell is this?” Gallo shouted, pointing an ink-stained finger at me.

“I am Nora Sterling,” I said, looking him dead in the eye. “The legitimate former owner of this house. And the woman whose name you allegedly saw on a power-of-attorney form yesterday morning while I was in the labor and delivery ward of Harrisburg General.”

Gallo froze. His gaze flicked to Deputy Miller and his partner, who had stepped forward, positioning themselves squarely between Gallo and my baby.

“Wait a minute,” Gallo muttered, his aggressive posture collapsing into sudden wariness. “She was in the hospital?”

“Active labor,” Rachel added smoothly. “Accompanied by high-risk monitoring. Nora Sterling never met you, never signed your purchase agreement, and never authorized Christopher Sterling to accept nine hundred thousand dollars on her behalf.”

Gallo turned on Christopher with a snarl that belonged on an animal. “You told me she was in Florida! You told me she signed the documents before she left for a family crisis!”

Brenda jumped between Gallo and her son. “Now see here, mister! My son gave you the house! If there’s an administrative error, it can be settled quietly! But don’t you dare raise your voice to him!”

“Administrative error?” Gallo spat on the hardwood floor. Deputy Miller immediately snapped, “Step back, sir! Do not escalate!”

Gallo took a shuddering breath, his hands balling into fists inside his leather pockets. “Nine hundred thousand dollars. I wired nine hundred thousand dollars to your designated corporate shell account yesterday afternoon, Christopher. Where is my money?”

Christopher looked as though he was going to vomit. His knees trembled so violently that he had to lean against the console table to keep from collapsing.

“I… I transferred…” Christopher stammered.

“Where is the money, Christopher?” Brenda’s voice turned shrill, a sudden panic breaking through her arrogance. “Chris? You put it in our joint account, didn't you? To pay off the Atlantic City lien?”