Chapter 3 - Friday Morning
I drove away before Tyler could reach for the door handle.
He called six times before I reached the interstate. Mom called four. Jenna sent three messages accusing me of "upsetting everyone for no reason."
Dad sent nothing.
At 11:20 p.m., I checked into a roadside hotel ten minutes from Grace's office. The room smelled like lemon cleaner and old carpet, which was still better than being told to sleep beside a lawn mower in my own garage.
I didn't sleep.
At 6:48 Friday morning, I walked into Grace Kim's office carrying coffee, the mortgage letter, and four years of resentment sharpened into focus.
Grace was already there in navy slacks and sneakers, her black hair twisted into a clip, three folders open across the conference table.
"Sit," she said.
I sat.
She slid a photocopy toward me.
DURABLE FINANCIAL POWER OF ATTORNEY.
My name appeared at the top.
My mother's name appeared as agent.
At the bottom was a signature that looked enough like mine to fool someone who had never watched me sign my name.
The notary stamp belonged to Rita Voss.
I knew Rita.
She had played cards with my mother every Wednesday for fifteen years.
"This isn't mine."
"I agree."
"Rita notarized a fake signature?"
"That's what we're going to determine."
I turned the page.
The document gave Mom authority to borrow against the house, sign loan papers, access insurance proceeds, and "manage real property for family necessity."
I looked up.
"Family necessity."
Grace's mouth tightened.
"The HELOC application lists the purpose as business capitalization."
"Tyler."
"Probably."
She handed me another page.
It was a projected budget for a franchise called Apex Auto Spa.
Owner: Tyler Dalton.
Capital contribution: $160,000.
Real-estate-backed line: $185,000.
I stared at it until the numbers blurred.
For two years Tyler had told us he was "talking to investors" about opening a high-end car wash. Apparently the investor was me.
"He was going to mortgage my house to start his business."
"Without your consent, if these documents are what they appear to be."
"And Mom helped him."
"We don't know exactly who did what yet."
"Grace. She stole my mail. She changed my locks. Her friend notarized my fake signature. How much mystery do you need?"
Grace didn't flinch.
"Enough to protect you when angry people start lying."
That stopped me.
She rotated her laptop.
"The cash buyer is Northline Residential. They're buying several older properties in the county. They know there are occupants. They will take over the transition agreement and handle any later possession process lawfully. Closing is scheduled for nine tomorrow morning."
"Can the fake power of attorney stop it?"
"Not by itself. The title company won't recognize a disputed instrument that was never recorded. But if your family files something today claiming an ownership interest, they could create a delay."
My phone buzzed.
Mom.
I ignored it.
Then Dad called.
I answered immediately.
"Dad?"
His voice was low. "Where are you?"
"Safe."
"Your mother is upset."
"I'm devastated."
Silence.
"Claire, come home so we can talk."
"Did you know about Tyler's loan?"
Another silence.
Longer.
I stood.
"Dad."
"I knew he was trying to get financing."
"Against my house?"
"He said your mother had authority."
Grace was watching my face.
"Did you see the power of attorney?"
"Claire, families help each other."
I almost couldn't speak.
"I have helped you for four years."
"And we're grateful."
"You watched Mom lock me in the garage."
He lowered his voice further. "I didn't want a scene."
I laughed, but there was no humor in it.
"So you sacrificed the person who wouldn't make one."
"Don't talk like that."
"Did you sign anything for Tyler?"
He breathed in.
Then out.
"Come home."
"Answer me."
The line went dead.
Grace leaned forward.
"That wasn't a no."
Before I could answer, her receptionist knocked and entered with a certified envelope.
"This was just delivered for Claire."
Grace opened it, scanned the first page, and swore under her breath.
"What?"
She looked at me.
"Your mother filed for an emergency court order claiming you're mentally impaired from chemical exposure and no longer competent to sell the house."
----------------------------------------
The next chapters are on the left side of your screen.
If you enjoyed the story, bookmark my site: https://metro.treeiq.biz
May you like
New stories are posted daily, so check back for updates.
