Chapter 7 - The Blue Folder
Grace didn't say anything until the elevator doors closed.
Then she pressed the lobby button and looked at me.
"Do not go into that house looking for the folder."
"It's my house."
"And they are angry, embarrassed, and now potentially exposed to criminal charges. Ownership doesn't make bad decisions safer."
I crossed my arms.
"The original deed matters."
"A recorded deed controls. Your original paper copy is useful, not magical. What worries me is the second document your father signed."
"What could it be?"
"A deed. An affidavit. A loan document. A fabricated family agreement. We don't guess."
Outside the courthouse, Mom was already performing for anyone who would listen.
"My daughter is sick," she told a woman near the steps. "The chemicals changed her."
I kept walking.
Tyler saw me and started forward.
Bell grabbed his elbow.
"Not one word," the lawyer hissed.
For once, Tyler listened.
Grace and I drove to the county recorder's office and pulled every filing associated with the property.
No new deed.
No recorded lien.
No recorded power of attorney.
That should have calmed me.
It didn't.
At 4:03, the title company called.
The closing could still happen Saturday at nine if nothing new hit the record before cutoff.
At 4:17, my buyer's attorney called Grace.
Northline was still in.
At 4:25, I received a message from my thirteen-year-old niece, Lily.
Aunt Claire can I talk to you without Grandma knowing?
My heart dropped.
I called immediately.
She whispered, "I'm in the bathroom."
"Are you okay?"
"Yeah. Grandma and Dad are yelling."
I closed my eyes.
"Where's your mom?"
"She took Mason to soccer. Grandma said you were trying to make us homeless."
"I'm not putting you on the street."
"I know."
Her voice cracked.
"How do you know?"
"Because you don't lie to me."
That nearly broke me.
I sat on a bench outside the recorder's office.
"What did you want to tell me?"
There was a rustle.
Then Lily whispered, "Grandma has a box with your name on it."
"What box?"
"Mail. Lots of it. She keeps it in her closet. I saw her putting envelopes in there when I was looking for wrapping paper."
I stared at Grace.
"How long?"
"A long time. Some are from banks. Some say confidential."
I felt heat rise behind my eyes.
"Lily, listen to me. Do not touch anything. Do not take pictures. Do not get involved. Just stay with your mom and brother, okay?"
"Okay."
"And don't argue with Grandma for me."
"She said you smell because you're poisoned."
I pressed my fingers against my mouth.
"I'm not poisoned. I work around strong cleaners, but I follow safety rules. I'm healthy."
"I know."
"I love you."
"I love you too."
The call ended.
Grace had heard enough.
"Mail interception changes things," she said. "Especially with identity documents involved."
"Can we get the box?"
"Not by barging in."
"Then how?"
"We document Lily's statement carefully, we notify the identity-theft investigator who took the lender report, and we let them decide what process to use."
I nodded.
At 5:10, I finally checked my missed messages.
Jenna had sent one.
Claire, I need to meet you alone. Tyler lied to me about the loan. There are things in this house I don't understand.
Then another arrived.
Please don't answer this number. He checks my phone.
A minute later, a third message came from an unknown number.
It was a photograph.
The blue folder from the hall safe lay open on a bed.
On top was a document titled:
QUITCLAIM DEED.
Grantee: Marlene Dalton.
Grantor: Claire Dalton.
And beneath my typed name was another forged signature.
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