Chapter 7 - TWO PREGNANT WOMEN, ONE COURTROOM, AND A MAN WHO LIED TO BOTH
Flynn’s preliminary hearing drew reporters from three states.
I wanted to stay home.
Rachel told me I did not need to attend.
Arthur begged me not to.
I went anyway.
Not because I wanted to see Flynn.
Because for months he had controlled rooms with stories about me.
Fragile Mabel.
Spoiled Mabel.
Mabel who inherited everything.
Mabel who cared more about money than marriage.
Mabel who would never notice what he did because she was too sheltered to understand people.
I wanted to sit in the room as myself.
Selina arrived twenty minutes later.
Cameras went insane.
The wife and the pregnant mistress.
Together.
Exactly the kind of image social media loves.
We did not hold hands.
We did not pretend friendship.
We simply walked into court one behind the other.
Flynn looked up.
His face changed when he saw us both.
That moment alone was almost worth attending.
The prosecution laid out the evidence.
My audio recording.
Vance’s parking-garage recording.
The $250,000 cashier’s check.
The forged estate planning drafts.
The surveillance.
The messages about Rose.
Daniel’s cooperation.
Rebecca’s introduction.
Then Vance testified.
Flynn’s attorney tried to frame him as an unreliable doctor protecting himself.
Vance remained calm.
“Did you agree to harm Mrs. Mercer?”
“No.”
“Did you take money?”
“I accepted a cashier’s check under law-enforcement supervision.”
“You repeated the amount?”
“Yes.”
“You discussed the supposed plan?”
“Yes.”
“So you participated in a conversation about causing a patient’s death.”
“I documented a solicitation to commit homicide.”
That answer ended the line of questioning quickly.
Then I testified.
I hated it.
Every second.
The defense attorney asked why I had not confronted Flynn immediately.
“Because I wanted to live.”
He asked whether I had marital problems.
“Yes.”
Whether I controlled most family finances.
“I controlled my separate trust and business assets.”
Whether Flynn might have been joking.
I stared at him.
“He discussed payment before and after my funeral.”
The courtroom went silent.
The attorney changed subjects.
Then he asked about Selina.
“Were you jealous?”
“Yes.”
That surprised him.
I continued.
“My husband impregnated another woman while I was pregnant. Jealousy was among the more normal emotions available.”
A few people laughed.
The judge silenced them.
“Did your jealousy influence your interpretation of Flynn’s words?”
“No.”
“How can you be sure?”
“Because ‘let her die’ does not become romantic context depending on my feelings.”
He stopped asking.
Selina testified later.
She admitted the affair.
No excuses.
That made her difficult to attack.
“Yes, I knew he was married.”
“Yes, I believed him when he said the marriage was ending.”
“Yes, that was selfish.”
Then she described the money.
The hidden transfers.
The lies.
The message about concealing their baby.
And finally Daniel’s recording in which Flynn called her a future liability.
Flynn stared at the table.
He did not look at her once.
When she finished, she passed me in the aisle.
We exchanged no words.
None were needed.
The judge ruled there was sufficient evidence for the case to proceed.
Flynn remained under strict restrictions.
Outside court, reporters shouted questions.
“Mabel, do you forgive Selina?”
“Selina, are you keeping the baby?”
“Mabel, will Flynn inherit anything?”
“Selina, do you still love him?”
We kept walking.
At the car, Selina suddenly stopped.
She looked at me.
“Do you?”
“What?”
“Forgive me?”
I thought about it.
“No.”
She nodded.
“But I don’t hate you anymore.”
Her eyes filled.
“That’s more than I expected.”
“Take care of your baby.”
“You too.”
We went separate ways.
Three months passed.
The criminal case developed slowly.
Real life has terrible pacing.
Court dates move.
Lawyers file motions.
Evidence gets reviewed.
Headlines become smaller.
People go back to their lives.
I was grateful.
Rose grew.
She smiled for the first time at eight weeks.
Arthur claimed it was at him.
It was gas.
Mercer Commercial continued operating.
I took partial leave.
Then returned slowly.
Not because anyone pressured me.
Because I missed work.
That mattered.
I could be a mother and still love my company.
The lie Flynn had sold the board—that motherhood would make me disappear—had infected me too.
Part of me felt guilty returning.
Then Emily said:
“Do you think Arthur loves his kids less because he goes to work?”
“No.”
“Then stop asking women questions you wouldn’t ask men.”
Fair.
I returned three mornings a week.
The first day, employees applauded.
I cried in the elevator afterward.
Daniel Cross formally resigned from the board as part of his cooperation.
Several directors requested new governance rules.
I went further.
No single family representative would ever again control private trust information alone.
All related-party transactions required independent review.
Executive spouses had zero informal authority.
Board succession had to be documented rather than assumed.
Trust, but build systems for the day trust fails.
That became my philosophy.
Then Selina gave birth.
A boy.
Elias.
I learned from Rachel because Flynn’s attorneys immediately filed to establish paternity and visitation.
Selina opposed unsupervised contact while the criminal case remained active.
I felt sympathy for her.
That surprised me.
A week later, a package arrived at my office.
No return address.
Inside was the navy anniversary suit Flynn had worn the night he plotted my death.
My stomach dropped.
A note sat on top.
Thought you might want this back. You paid for it. — S
I laughed for almost a full minute.
Then I donated it.
Two months later, Flynn accepted a plea agreement on several charges related to solicitation, financial fraud, and obstruction.
The exact sentencing remained pending.
The murder-related evidence was strong.
So was the financial evidence.
His attorneys had apparently explained the obvious:
A jury would hear him offering money in his own voice.
Flynn finally stopped pretending misunderstanding.
As part of the process, he submitted a written statement.
Rachel asked if I wanted to read it.
“No.”
“You’re sure?”
“Yes.”
“What if there’s something important?”
“Tell me if there’s something legally important.”
There wasn’t.
Later, curiosity got me.
I read one paragraph.
I loved my wife, but over time I felt diminished by the imbalance of power in our marriage.
I stopped.
There it was again.
My success as his justification.
I tore up the copy.
Not dramatically.
Just enough.
His insecurity was not my crime.
I would never carry it as one again.
Then sentencing day arrived.
Flynn stood before the court.
Selina sat on one side.
I sat on the other.
He finally looked at both of us.
May you like
And for the first time, there was no audience left he could charm.
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