Chapter 4 - THE LETTER
Nathan sent the first formal notice two days later.
It was simple.
Professional.
Cold.
It stated that I was the legal owner of the apartment and demanded that no further financial action be taken involving the property.
It also requested access to my personal belongings.
My mother called eleven minutes after receiving it.
I put the phone on speaker.
“You hired a lawyer against your own parents?”
“I hired a lawyer to protect my property.”
“Your property?”
“Yes.”
“You ungrateful little—”
“Careful.”
She stopped.
I surprised even myself.
Mom had spent my entire childhood using anger like a weapon.
For the first time, it didn’t scare me.
“I raised you,” she said.
“That doesn’t give you ownership of me.”
“You think a piece of paper makes that apartment yours?”
“Yes.”
“Your father paid for that home!”
“And then both of you legally transferred it to me.”
She laughed.
“That was temporary.”
“Then why does the deed say otherwise?”
Silence.
I continued.
“Why was my signature used for a loan?”
The line went dead.
Thirty seconds later, Karla called.
“You stupid bitch.”
There was the family warmth I remembered.
“What do you want?”
“You’re going to destroy Dad.”
“I didn’t forge my signature.”
“You don’t understand what was happening back then.”
“Explain it.”
“He needed money.”
“So he stole my identity?”
“He didn’t steal anything!”
“Then why didn’t anyone tell me?”
She had no answer.
I asked, “Did the loan pay for your condo?”
“Go to hell.”
She hung up.
That was answer enough.
The next morning, Mrs. Gable knocked on our boarding room door.
“There are two police officers downstairs asking for you.”
My stomach dropped.
“For me?”
She nodded.
Sophia was building a tower from plastic cups.
I carried her downstairs.
Two officers stood near the front entrance.
One spoke first.
“Laura Bennett?”
“Yes.”
“We received a complaint regarding stolen property.”
I almost laughed.
“From Diane Bennett?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
Of course.
My mother had called the police.
The complaint said I had removed property documents, jewelry, and cash from the apartment.
Cash?
Jewelry?
I had taken my clothes, Sophia’s things, and copies of documents that belonged to me.
“May I call my attorney?”
The officer nodded.
Nathan arrived twenty-five minutes later.
Mom showed up ten minutes after him.
With Karla.
My mother stepped out of the car wearing sunglasses and carrying herself like she was arriving for a victory photo.
“There she is,” she said.
Karla pointed at me.
“She stole Mom’s documents.”
Nathan stepped between us.
“Which documents?”
Mom looked at him.
“Family financial records.”
He smiled slightly.
“You mean documents concerning Ms. Bennett’s property?”
My mother’s face tightened.
Nathan pulled a certified copy of the deed from his briefcase.
The officers read it.
Then one of them turned toward Mom.
“Ma’am, why did you tell dispatch this apartment belonged to you?”
Her expression froze.
Nathan answered for her.
“Because she apparently hoped nobody would check.”
Karla stepped forward.
“This is ridiculous.”
The officer held up a hand.
“Ma’am.”
But my mother wasn’t done.
She looked straight at me.
“You want war?”
I held Sophia closer.
“No.”
Then I looked at Nathan.
“But apparently you do.”
That afternoon, the lender finally sent the records Nathan had requested.
The signature wasn’t the worst part.
Attached to the loan was a notarized statement claiming I had personally appeared to sign it.
Nathan recognized the notary’s name immediately.
He looked at me.
“Laura, do you know who this is?”
I looked down.
May you like
And my stomach dropped.
The notary was my mother’s best friend.
