Chapter 2 - FIVE STITCHES
The emergency-room physician closed the cut near my temple with five stitches.
I had a mild concussion, bruising along my hip, and several shallow cuts from porcelain. My left palm was swollen where I had tried to block the plate.
Officer Jenna Morales interviewed me after the doctor cleared the room.
“Had Mr. Vance assaulted you before tonight?”
I looked at my wedding ring.
“He shoved me once.”
“When?”
“Four months ago.”
“Did you report it?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“He apologized. He said he panicked.”
“Had anyone pressured you about the apartment?”
“Yes.”
Morales waited.
I explained that I had bought the apartment six years before marrying Diego. It occupied the entire twelfth floor of the Ashford, a century-old Manhattan cooperative overlooking Riverside Drive.
My late mother had helped with the down payment through a family trust. The remaining mortgage had been paid from my earnings and inheritance before the wedding.
Diego had no ownership interest.
Victoria refused to accept that.
For three years she had called the apartment “the future Vance residence.” She suggested transferring it into the family real-estate company for tax reasons.
I refused every time.
At dinner, Victoria brought documents.
She said they were renovation approvals.
The first page was a transfer agreement.
I pushed it away.
Diego struck me minutes later.
Officer Morales photographed my injuries and collected my clothing.
The broken plate remained in the apartment under police control.
Diego was arrested for felony assault after two officers reviewed the scene, the blood pattern, the 911 call, and the contradictory statements.
He was released the following morning under a temporary no-contact order.
Victoria told police she had seen me trip.
Arthur said he had been looking down.
Natalie said she heard the plate break but did not see the strike.
No one supported me openly.
Yet Natalie had warned me about the mirror.
My attorney, Rachel Kim, arrived before dawn.
She handled property disputes and had represented me during an earlier renovation conflict with the Ashford board.
I repeated Natalie’s whisper.
Rachel’s expression changed.
“Did anyone enter your bedroom after police arrived?”
“I don’t know.”
“Do you know of a cabinet behind the mirror?”
“No.”
“Who installed the mirror?”
“Diego arranged it last year.”
Rachel called Detective Morales.
Police secured the bedroom until they could obtain clear consent and document the search. The apartment was legally mine, but Diego claimed marital privacy over certain spaces. Rachel wanted no later argument that evidence had been collected improperly.
At noon, the Ashford’s building manager called.
Someone had submitted an emergency request to replace my electronic access credentials.
The request claimed I was medically incapacitated.
The applicant was Victoria Vance.
Attached was a notarized statement giving Arthur temporary authority over my apartment.
May you like
My signature appeared at the bottom.
The document had been created two hours before dinner.
