Chapter 3 - The Silver Package
I called Jason.
He answered cheerfully. “Hey, Mom. Did you make it to the cabin?”
His tone told me everything.
He knew people were there.
“Did you know Brenda and Larry were using my house?”
There was a pause.
“I knew they were going. Sarah told me she cleared it with you.”
“She didn’t.”
“What?”
“They moved into my cabin. They opened my cabinets, used my mother’s china, and drank the wine your father bought for our anniversary.”
Jason went silent.
I photographed the silver package and sent it to him.
“What is that?” he asked.
“You tell me.”
Another pause.
“Mom, don’t open it.”
“Why?”
“I want Sarah there.”
Behind him, I heard a door slam.
Sarah’s voice came through faintly. “Who are you talking to?”
Jason lowered his voice. “We’ll be there tomorrow morning.”
Michael touched my arm and shook his head.
“Tonight,” I told Jason. “You come tonight.”
The call ended without a promise.
Michael opened his laptop at the dining table. The county database loaded slowly because of the storm.
“What are we looking for?” I asked.
“Any filing connected to the property.”
“The deed is in my name.”
“It was last month.”
I stared at him. “What does that mean?”
He didn’t answer.
The search results appeared.
At first, everything looked normal: the original deed, tax records, and Robert’s death certificate.
Then Michael stopped scrolling.
A document had been filed nine days earlier.
“Quitclaim deed,” he said.
I had heard the words before but never expected them to be attached to my home.
“What does it say?”
He turned the screen toward me.
According to the document, I had transferred a fifty-percent interest in the cabin to Jason Parker and Sarah Collins-Parker.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
It looked real.
Too real.
“That isn’t mine.”
Michael’s jaw tightened. “The document was notarized.”
“By whom?”
He zoomed in.
The notary’s name was Melissa Grant.
I knew her.
She worked at the bank Sarah used.
My phone rang.
Sarah.
I answered and put her on speaker.
Her voice came sharp and breathless.
“What did you say to my mother?”
“I told her to leave my house.”
“You humiliated my entire family.”
“They entered illegally.”
“They had permission.”
“From whom?”
“From me.”
“You don’t own the cabin.”
She hesitated for half a second.
Then she said, “Not yet.”
Michael and I looked at each other.
“Sarah,” I said, “there is a deed on the county website with my forged signature.”
The silence on the other end lasted three heartbeats.
May you like
Then Sarah whispered, “You weren’t supposed to find that until after Christmas.”
And hung up.
