Chapter 8: The Last Piece of Evidence
The next morning, Claire arrived with news.
Not good news.
Not bad news.
The kind of news that changes everything.
“We found something.””
I looked up.
“What?””
She placed a folder on my table.
“The deed transfer.””
My hands went cold.
“There was a transfer?””
“Yes.””
“To whom?””
She hesitated.
“That’s the problem.””
I opened the folder.
The document inside made my heart stop.
The house wasn’t transferred to Harrison.
It wasn’t transferred to Sloan.
It was transferred to a company.
A company I had never heard of.
“What is this?””
Claire looked at me.
“We’re investigating.””
I stared at the signature.
My signature.
A perfect copy.
“They forged my name.””
“Yes.””
“Can we prove it?””
Claire nodded.
“We can.””
I looked out the window.
The oak tree where Daniel’s ashes rested moved gently in the wind.
Everything they wanted was connected to this house.
The money.
The deed.
The lies.
Then my phone rang.
Sloan.
I answered.
“What?””
Her voice sounded different.
Less confident.
“Margaret, we need to talk.””
“No.””
“You don’t understand.””
“I understand plenty.””
“No, you don’t.””
She lowered her voice.
“Harrison wasn’t the one who planned everything.””
I froze.
“What?””
“There’s someone else.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“Who?””
She hesitated.
Then:
“My father.””
I said nothing.
“My father helped Harrison with the accounts.””
The room spun.
“Why?””
“Because he knew how to move money.””
“And the house?””
“He arranged the paperwork.””
I closed my eyes.
The betrayal was bigger than I imagined.
Not just my son.
Not just my daughter-in-law.
An entire family had looked at me and seen an opportunity.
“Why are you telling me this?””
Sloan went quiet.
Then she whispered:
“Because my father is going to leave the country.””
I stood.
“When?””
“Tonight.””
I looked at Claire.
She immediately understood.
“Where is he going?””
“I don’t know.””
“You expect me to believe you?””
“No.””
Her voice cracked.
“I expect you to know I’m scared.””
For the first time, I heard something real from Sloan.
Fear.
Not arrogance.
Not cruelty.
Fear.
“What happened?””
She whispered:
“He found out I had the recording.””
I looked at the recorder sitting on my table.
“What did he do?””
“He tried to take it.””
“And?””
“He threatened me.””
The silence was heavy.
Then Sloan said:
“Margaret… if you want the truth about Harrison, you need to get that recording before my father does.””
The call ended.
I looked at Claire.
“We need to find Patricia’s husband.””
Claire nodded.
But before we could move, another message appeared.
From the same unknown number.
This time, it included a photo.
A photo of my house.
Taken that morning.
May you like
Underneath it were six words:
*You should have left sooner.*
