He said the signature was already hers.”
“That is not what you said five minutes ago,” Claire replied.
“You said you watched her sign it.”
“I panicked.”
“You lied while looking directly at me.”
“Claire, please.”
She removed her engagement ring.
Brandon stood so quickly that his water glass overturned.
“You’re ending our wedding over paperwork?”
“I’m stopping a wedding because you helped forge your sister’s signature, accepted money taken from her grandmother’s account, and lied when you thought my father could protect you.”
She set the ring beside his plate.
The tiny click against the china sounded louder than Dad’s chair hitting the wall.
Dad rounded on me.
“Are you happy now?”
I looked at him.
He had ordered me to attend because the family needed to look perfect.
Now the table held a forged document, a dead notary’s certificate, stolen bank records, and an engagement ring.
For once, I had not ruined the picture.
I had simply stopped holding it together.
“No,” I said.
“I’m not happy.
I’m finished.”
Dad’s face reddened.
“You think a few pieces of paper change who owns that house?”
“The county record changes who owns it,” Elena said.
“The court order confirms it.
Grace’s name is on both.”
“I maintained that property for three years.”
“With money from the account you were not entitled to use,” Elena replied.
He turned back to me.
“You would put your own mother on the street?”
Mom flinched.
There it was—the last weapon he always reached for.
Not an apology.
Not an explanation.
A hostage.
I looked at Mom.
“The notice gives both of you thirty days,” I said.
“If you need more time, you can speak to Elena.
I will help you find somewhere safe, Mom.
But Dad does not get to remain in my house by using you as a shield.”
Mom’s eyes filled.
“I thought you knew,” she whispered.
“Knew what?”
“That the house was yours.
Robert said you agreed to let us stay.
He said the lawyers were handling the rest.”
“Did you ever ask me?”
She lowered her eyes.
“No.”
That answer hurt more than I expected.
Dad lied.
Brandon lied.
But Mom had chosen the comfort of not asking.
“You didn’t notice I moved out,” I said.
