“But Dad tries really hard, and I don’t care that he can’t buy me a lot of things or take me to theme parks. I love him anyway.”
I look at Polly. She looked ashamed when she was handing me my bank statements, but that’s nothing on the anguish now crawling across her face. She’s glaring at the table, and I suspect that it isn’t me she’s angry at.
Maybe she’s just as upset as I am that our daughter has become a pawn in a rich man’s game.
“You’re going to use this against me?” I ask with a snort.
“We’ll be removing the bottom part, though, of course, we will let the court know it exists, just that it is pointless in the battle between us,” Polly coughs.
“I wouldn’t say it’s pointless,” I say. “It’s evidence for me, rather than against. I’ll be keeping this one.”
Polly nods, expecting that. She’d shown it to me knowing I’d take it then. Which means that they’re still confident even with Lily’s letter in my hands.
“I have pictures of your jacket, as well as an old picture of you and that gang, where I’ve labeled the three men who went to jail,” Polly says. “See, Ethan, we have a lot. There’s not much you can do to stop us now. It’s in your best interest to simply stop fighting before this ruins your life. There’s no way that you can win against us. Do you understand?”
“I understand everything,” I say slowly. “I understand that the only true document you’ve given me in all this is my financial situation, while everything else is a lie, unintentional or not.” I look Polly in the eye. “You and your husband are fucking cowards and liars; you’re using lies because you know you can’t win without them, not after you disappeared on us for ten years and sent your parents to deliver divorce papers to me.”
A high, angry flush rises in Polly’s cheeks.
“I’m trying to do what’s best for my daughter,” she hisses, but her heart isn’t in it.
“No,” I say. “You’re trying to do what’s best for Warrick and you. After all, having a daughter is going to look really good for the pictures against his opponent, who’s a family man. And, unfortunately, Warrick can’t have children of his own; not only is it too late for that, but he’s impotent.”
That was the first thing Alex found. Elections are coming up soon, and popularity is swinging in favor of Warrick’s Sanders’ opponent, who has a beautiful wife and three gorgeous children. He’s always in the papers, either because someone caught sight of him at the local park with his kids, or because he’s doing some charity event in the area.
Funny how Polly and Warrick decided to make a bid for Lily now, when she would be most useful in the election.
“Sorry, Polly, but I’m not willing to allow Lily to become a political tool for your gain,” I say cheerfully as she glares at me, unable to refute it. “You want me to sign now, because a court battle might take too long and, by the time it finishes, it will be pointless to have Lily because Warrick will have lost the election.”
“How dare you?” Polly growls.
“No, that’s what I should be saying to you,” I say, and my smile drops. “I knew there was something shady the moment you sent that letter. It’s funny, actually, because Georgia told me I was being paranoid, and I actually believed it right up until I heard that conversation. You should have been more fucking careful, Polly.”
“You won’t win,” Polly says, gritting her teeth. “You want to take this to court just to spite us? We’ll still get custody.”
“If it goes to court, you probably will,” I say amiably.
Polly searches my face, her expression falling to confusion.
“You’re not worried,” she suddenly realized. “You haven’t been worried once this entire conversation. Why are you so calm?” She straightens abruptly in her seat. “What have you and that bitch planned?”
“Hey,” I say, annoyed. “First, Georgia didn’t have anything to do with this, so leave her out of it. She’s been at my side, and far more faithful than you were. She?
?s also been a better mom to Lily than you ever will be.”
The words hang in the air. Polly is furious, but my heart clenches. I might have just ruined all that.
“Secondly, I’ve already found what I needed,” I say.
I get up and pick up a plain white envelope off the kitchen counter, Polly’s eyes watching my every movement. I hand it to her.
“It’s not the only copy,” I say.
Polly opens the envelope warily and reads the letter. Her face drains of color.
“Where did you get this?” she whispers.
“It’s funny what professional detectives can track down, especially ones that are motivated to help their friends,” I comment.