Chapter 5 - My Signature
The woman’s name was Rosa.
She had borrowed money from her sister to place a reservation deposit.
I knew that because she told me while staring at the boxes in my hallway.
“Please tell me this is the right house.”
“It is,” Elena said. “But there appears to be a serious problem with the seller’s authority.”
Teresa moved toward the door.
“We’ll call you.”
Rosa stepped back.
“No. I took a day off work.”
I understood that look.
The moment a person realizes someone else has treated their sacrifice like loose change.
“What did Marco give you?” I asked.
Rosa opened her folder.
A reservation agreement.
A copy of my identification.
And a letter authorizing my husband to negotiate on my behalf.
My name sat at the bottom in blue ink.
The J was wrong.
I always looped it below the line.
This one stopped short.
“I didn’t sign that.”
Teresa made a sharp sound.
“Don’t start throwing accusations around.”
I looked up.
“Then stop giving me reasons.”
Elena asked Rosa’s permission to copy the documents and advised her to contact her own lawyer before sending another peso.
Rosa’s husband put the measuring tape in his pocket.
“How much did you pay?” I asked.
“Two hundred thousand.”
My knees weakened.
Elena guided me into a chair.
Marco had taken money against my home while I lay in a maternity ward counting the hours between pain medication.
Teresa’s phone was already at her ear.
“You need to get here.”
Marco arrived twenty minutes later.
He stopped when he saw Rosa.
Then he saw Elena holding the authorization letter.
His shoulders dropped a fraction.
There it was.
The first honest thing he had done all day.
He knew exactly what we had found.
“Julia, let me explain.”
“Did I sign this?”
“It was preliminary.”
“Did I sign it?”
“We needed to move quickly.”
Rosa stared at him.
“You said she was busy with the baby.”
“She was.”
I held his gaze.
“Answer me.”
He looked toward his mother.
Again.
Always that little turn of the head.
Teresa stepped in.
“A husband shouldn’t need written permission to improve his family’s life.”
Elena placed the copy flat on the table.
“He does need authorization to act for the owner.”
Marco reached for it.
She moved it out of reach.
His voice dropped.
“You’re making this worse than it is.”
“No,” I said. “I’m finally seeing how bad it is.”
A phone buzzed on the dining table.
Marco’s screen lit up before he grabbed it.
May you like
One message.
We need the balance by Friday. Your mother promised the money.
