“Yes,” I said.
Nora told me not to contact my parents again.
By sunset, she had placed a fraud alert on my property title, filed a notice with the county recorder, preserved the video, and contacted an investigator.
On Friday, nobody came back.
Instead, a document appeared in the county records eleven days later.
Someone had filed a deed claiming I had already transferred my house to Donnelly Family Holdings.
My signature was on it.
I had never signed it.
For three months, my parents acted as though nothing had happened. My mother posted photographs from Melanie’s pool. My father attended church. Melanie announced plans for a Christmas fundraiser at her new home.
Then my phone rang.
It was my aunt.
“Claire,” she whispered, “your parents are in big trouble.”
I looked at the courthouse doors ahead of me and adjusted the folder under my arm.
“I know.”
Twenty minutes later, my parents entered the emergency hearing with Melanie between them. My father still looked certain that one raised voice would make everyone obey.
