UPDATE NOTE: Remember, in this new version, Harry and Juliette aren't married (yet).

No sooner had we celebrated a wonderful family holiday than I got a call from Nathan Greenwood. "Hello, Juliette. Sorry to bother you while you're with your family, but I need you to get back to Vancouver right away."

"That's okay," I told him. "We all knew we'd have to get back to reality after Christmas. What's up?"

"Theodore is going after you," he said and my heart dropped.

"What?!" I panicked. Then I realized he wasn't being literal. "You mean during the trial, right?" I asked slowly, to be sure I understood him.

"Yes, I apologize for the way I phrased that. Theodore wants to try to get you charged with sexual misconduct. He's saying that you and Harry were sexually involved, that you took advantage of Harry and manipulated him because he is intellectually disabled, and that you violated the terms of the contract."

"What the hell?" I said and tears started to prick my eyes. "Harry isn't disabled!"

"What's wrong?" Harry asked and I handed him the phone. He listened intently as Nathan told him the situation. When he hung up, he filled me in. "Nathan wants me to see an Intellectual Disability specialist and go through some testing to be sure that I was aware enough to give consent to our activities."

"Why is he doing this?" I demanded. "How does he think it's going to help him?"

Harry answered, "I think he just wants to hurt you in any way he can."

I knew that was it. I had never done anything to offend Theodore except defy his ridiculous rules for taking care of Harry. 

"Oh, and he said that you should bring a copy of the contract you originally signed," Harry added.

The contract! I hadn't thought about it in so long. I had sent copies to my parents and to Helena just to see if they had any feedback before I signed it. I wish I had thought of that way back when I challenged Theodore about the wording.

As soon as we hung up with Nathan, Harry broke the news to our families, "We have to book flights to Vancouver as soon as possible."

"Before the New Year?" Mom asked, looking disappointed.

And then Harry told them about the conversation with Nathan.

"What is today, the 29th?" I asked since we had all been nestled in our little holiday cocoon for a number of days. "I don't even know if we can get a flight out at this point. And what specialist could see Harry before the new year anyway?"

"Sounds like that's the place to start," Clive said. "Call and make an appointment first and then you'll know when you have to fly."

Nathan had given us the name of the specialist he recommended, along with both his work and home phone numbers. We were able to get in touch with him and make an appointment for January 2, 2018 at 8:00 AM, amazingly.

"All right, looks like we're flying whenever we can get on a plane," I said, knowing holiday travel was going to be expensive and hard to come by.

We searched for three hours before we finally decided on a red-eye flight going out around 12:30 AM the following evening. I apologized again and again to my mother that we couldn't stay for the New Year's Eve party she was planning to have. She had invited aunts, uncles and cousins, and she had been encouraging me to invite some friends from high school and college so everyone could meet Harry and his family. As I thought about it, I was somewhat relieved to not have to face all of those people yet, although I didn't admit this to my mom. And Anne still had to stay out of the news and the spotlight, so we really should have been more careful about planning such an event in the first place.

"I know," she said sadly. "You have to do what you can to get back there. Dad and I already have our flights booked for the following weekend so we can be with you when the trial starts. You'll only be without us for a week." From the way she said it, I think she was consoling herself more than me.

"Anne and Clive will take good care of us," I said, smiling over at them as they sat in front of the fire. "And after this is over, we'll have all the time in the world for family reunions and introducing Harry to everyone." She nodded in agreement and then I remembered, "Do you or Dad still have a copy of my contract with Theodore?" I asked. "I think I asked you both to look over it to make sure it sounded good."

"Um, let me look," she said, scrolling through her phone. I asked Helena to look in her emails as well. "Don't you have a copy in your sent files on your phone?" Mom asked.

"You'd think so, right? But that didn't occur to me  when I thought it looked different. But since Theodore had my phone for a while, I haven't been able to find lots of things I've looked for."

At almost the same time, both Mom and Helena pulled up the email with the contract attached. I perused Mom's email and sure enough, the wording stated what I thought all along.

...provide care and education for seven-year-old intellectually disabled boy...

"Yes!" I cheered. "I knew it!" Of course, I wasn't sure what either version of the contract would prove, except that Theodore had lied in either case and that he had deliberately changed the contract while my luggage was held up that first night. Luckily, the emails still had the threads of messages going back to where they originated from, Theodore's email address. I asked them both to send me their copies and I found my signed copy - with the changed wording - still in the flat pocket of my suitcase. I literally hadn't thought about it in months.

Anne, Clive, Harry and I climbed aboard a 747 late on the 30th. We arrived in the wee hours of the 31st, Vancouver time, when the sun was just thinking about getting up. Bedraggled and weary from an overnight flight, we found our luggage and paraded slowly to the parking ramp where we had left Clive's car. Once we checked into the hotel, we slept the morning away.

That night, New Year's Eve, we ordered in for dinner since it was much too late to get a reservation anywhere. And as of yet, as far as we knew, Anne's presence was still undetected by Theodore or his attorney. It was a fine celebration with a few bottles of champagne and a few hours of conversation about all the wonderful things that had come out of the past six months.

The morning of January 2 came all too soon and brought us back to the reality of the impending trial. Dr. Alton had agreed to come to the hotel, again because we had to lay low before the trial, especially Anne. When we opened our hotel room door for him, he commanded our attention with his winning smile and his confidence.

"Hello, Harry," he said, stretching out his hand, which Harry shook warmly. And then he greeted me, "You must be Juliette."

"I am. Thank you so much for meeting with us so quickly." Then  I introduced him to Anne and Clive.

"Of course," he said. "I know this case is going to court soon and I'm just happy to be able to offer my services. Now, why don't you fill me in on the issues?"

Harry and I spent the better part of an hour telling Dr. Alton how Theodore had manipulated Harry with medications and somehow got his brother to "diagnose" Harry with an intellectual disability, even though he wasn't licensed to practice medicine. We went into detail about Theodore covering up Harry's age and manipulating his mental state to pass him off as disabled so that he could keep the company and the family wealth. We also listed all the drugs that Harry had been given and our theory that Theodore was trying to induce side effects that mimicked the physical issues an intellectually disabled person might have.

After collecting all the details, Dr. Alton did a very thorough physical exam as well as a series of mental and IQ tests and Harry scored wonderfully on everything.

"Harry, you're one of the healthiest people I've ever met," Dr. Alton said in conclusion. "And you are honestly very intelligent. I'm so sorry for what you've been through." Harry nodded and mumbled a humble thanks. "This Theodore guy must have done a number on you to make it seem like you had any mental incapacity at all." He shook his head in wonder while Harry's proud smile spread. I still saw that boyish happiness in his smile when someone complimented him.

Dr. Alton concluded, "I will send my official statement to your lawyer. Would you like a copy as well?"

"Yes," Harry answered. "But maybe we can just get it from you when it's ready or we can get a copy of it from Nathan. We don't exactly have a permanent address yet."

"Very good," Dr. Alton nodded and walked to the door. We couldn't thank him enough for his help.