Chapter 5: The House They Tried to Steal
I thought discovering the hidden scholarship letters was the worst thing that could happen that afternoon.
I was wrong.
Daniel Reynolds placed several documents on the coffee table.
The first was a copy of the original property deed.
The second was a transfer request.
The third was a listing agreement for the sale of our house.
My father picked up the listing agreement.
"This property was never listed.""
Daniel nodded.
"Not officially. Someone contacted a real estate agent and attempted to initiate a private sale.""
Dad examined the paperwork.
His jaw tightened.
"That's my name.""
"But not your signature," Daniel replied.
I looked at the document.
It was the same handwriting pattern as the bedroom authorization.
Someone had been practicing my father's signature.
For how long?
And why?
Denise stepped into the living room.
"You're making this sound like some elaborate criminal operation.""
Daniel looked at her.
"Someone used forged documents to interfere with a protected trust.""
"Then investigate whoever did it.""
"We are.""
Denise turned toward Dad.
"Marcus, are you seriously going to believe this man over your wife?""
Dad placed the papers on the table.
"I believed you for years.""
His voice was quiet.
"That's what makes this so difficult.""
Denise's expression changed.
She looked at me.
"Maya, tell your father he's destroying our family over something he doesn't understand.""
I stared at her.
"You destroyed my room.""
"That was a family decision.""
"You hid my college letters.""
"I was protecting Brianna.""
"From what? Me going to college?""
Brianna stood beside the staircase, crying silently.
Denise snapped her fingers toward her.
"Go upstairs.""
"No," Brianna whispered.
Denise turned.
"What did you say?""
Brianna wiped her cheeks.
"I want to know what's happening.""
Her mother approached her.
"Not now.""
"You told me Maya's mother left nothing for her. You said Dad owned everything and could decide who got what.""
Dad slowly turned toward Brianna.
"What else did your mother tell you?""
Brianna looked frightened.
"She said Maya was going to lose the house when she turned eighteen.""
I felt my stomach drop.
"Why would I lose the house?""
Brianna shook her head.
"I don't know. Mom said there was paperwork.""
Daniel leaned forward.
"What paperwork?""
Brianna looked toward Denise.
"She said you and Mr. Reynolds were handling it.""
Daniel's expression hardened.
"Mrs. Carter, did you tell Brianna that the trust was being transferred?""
Denise didn't answer.
Dad stood.
"You're going to explain everything.""
Denise's eyes filled with tears.
"Marcus, I was trying to protect my daughter.""
"And what about mine?""
"Your daughter has always been protected!""
I couldn't believe it.
Dad stepped closer.
"She lost her mother when she was eight. She spent years sleeping with a photograph because she was afraid of forgetting her mother's face. And today, I came home to find that photograph shattered on the floor.""
Denise looked away.
"You always make everything about Maya.""
Dad's voice broke.
"Because she's my daughter.""
Nobody spoke.
Daniel opened his briefcase again.
"There's a reason the house could not be transferred without Maya's consent once she reached the age specified in the trust.""
He showed Dad a section of the agreement.
"The property is held for Maya's benefit. You were appointed trustee, Marcus. Your authority was limited.
You could maintain the property, pay approved expenses, and protect her interests. You could not simply sell or transfer it.""
Dad looked up.
"Then how did someone attempt to list it?""
Daniel turned another page.
"Someone submitted a forged authorization and a false certificate claiming the trust had been amended.""
"Who submitted it?""
Daniel looked toward Denise.
"I have the name of the person who delivered the documents.""
My stepmother's face tightened.
"Who?""
Daniel didn't answer her.
He showed the page to Dad.
The name was not Denise Carter.
It was Brianna Carter.
My stepsister made a small sound.
"What?""
Denise immediately stepped between her daughter and the table.
"That's impossible.""
Daniel remained composed.
"The documents were delivered using Brianna's identification.""
Brianna began shaking her head.
"I didn't sign anything.""
Dad looked at her.
"Did you give your mother your identification?""
Brianna hesitated.
"She said she needed it for a college application.""
I stared at her.
"Which college application?""
Brianna looked down.
"Whitmore.""
The same university where I had received a full scholarship.
Daniel removed another paper.
"This is a copy of an email submitted with the attempted trust amendment.""
Dad read it.
His face became unreadable.
"What is it?"" I asked.
He handed it to Daniel.
The attorney read the message aloud.
The beneficiary should be removed before the eighteenth birthday. The property must be secured before she receives independent access to the trust.
My chest tightened.
I was the beneficiary.
I was the person they wanted removed.
But why?
Dad looked at Denise.
"Did you write this?""
"No.""
"Did Brianna?""
"No!""
Brianna started crying harder.
"Mom, what did you do with my identification?""
Denise grabbed her shoulders.
"Stop asking questions.""
Brianna pulled away.
"You're scaring me!""
For the first time, I realized Brianna might not have understood the full extent of what her mother was doing.
She had been jealous of my bedroom.
She had wanted my closet, my space, and the attention she believed I received.
But the documents were something else entirely.
This was bigger than a bedroom.
Daniel gathered the papers.
"We need to contact the bank and secure the remaining trust assets. We should also preserve every original document in this house.""
Dad nodded.
"Do whatever is necessary.""
Denise suddenly stepped toward the coffee table.
She grabbed the transaction folder.
"These are private family documents!""
Dad caught her wrist.
"Put them down.""
She tried to pull away.
"You're not taking anything from me!""
He released her wrist, and she dropped the folder.
Several pages scattered across the carpet.
One sheet slid beneath the coffee table.
I bent to retrieve it.
At the top was a bank statement.
I recognized the account number from the hidden compartment.
But beneath it was a list of transfers to an unfamiliar company.
I read the name.
Carter Property Holdings LLC.
"What's this?""
Daniel took the statement.
His eyes narrowed.
He examined the account details, then looked at my father.
"This company was established eighteen months ago.""
Dad frowned.
"Who owns it?""
Daniel turned the page.
There were two names listed.
Denise Carter.
And Brianna Carter.
Brianna covered her mouth.
"I don't know anything about that company!""
Denise rushed toward her.
"Don't say another word.""
Dad stepped between them.
"Get away from her.""
Then Daniel found something even more troubling.
The company had received several large payments from the trust.
And the latest transfer had been made only three days earlier.
Dad stared at the amount.
"Where did this money go?""
Daniel checked the destination account.
Then he slowly looked up.
"Marcus, I think you need to see who received the final payment.""
He turned the page toward us.
The recipient wasn't a real estate company.
It wasn't a bank.
It was an individual.
A man.
May you like
Daniel Reynolds.
My father's face went white.
