Chapter 4: The Document They Wanted Me to Sign
For several seconds, I couldn't take my eyes off the envelope.
PROPERTY TRANSFER AGREEMENT.
My name was printed directly beneath the title.
I looked at Daniel.
“What property?””
He shifted his weight.
“Mom, can we come inside first?””
“No. You can explain it here.””
Tiffany sighed dramatically.
“Margaret, we're not strangers. This is ridiculous.””
I looked at the woman who had slapped me less than twenty-four hours earlier.
“Strangers don't usually hit me in front of two hundred people. But apparently, family doesn't have much trouble doing that either.””
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“Please don't start.””
“I'm not starting anything. You came to my house carrying a document with my name on it. Tell me what it is.””
He glanced at Tiffany.
She took over.
“It's a temporary property arrangement. Your son and I are planning our future, and we need some financial flexibility.””
“What property?””
“The remaining land you own outside town.””
My fingers tightened around the doorframe.
Robert's land.
The property I had refused to sell after his death except for the small portion I had already sacrificed for their wedding.
“No,” I said.
Tiffany blinked.
“You haven't even read it.””
“I don't need to.””
“It's a perfectly reasonable proposal.””
“Then why don't you ask your father to sign it?””
Her expression hardened.
“Because this is Daniel's family property.””
I looked at my son.
“Did you know about this?””
Daniel nodded reluctantly.
“We've been discussing it.””
“Since when?””
“Before the wedding.””
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
“How long before?””
He looked away.
“A few months.””
I stared at him.
“So while I was selling part of your father's inheritance to pay for your wedding, you were planning to take the rest?””
“That's not fair,” he replied quickly.
Tiffany stepped forward.
“Don't make it sound like we're stealing from you. We want to use the land as collateral for a property development opportunity.””
I studied her face.
“What development opportunity?””
“My father knows some investors. There's a residential project coming up. The land is valuable, and we could make a lot of money.””
“Then why do you need my signature?””
“Because you're the owner.””
“Exactly.””
She smiled impatiently.
“Margaret, you're sixty-one. You don't need all that land sitting there doing nothing.””
The words struck me harder than I expected.
Robert had been dead for seven years, and apparently, that was long enough for his family to decide his land was an inconvenience.
Daniel finally spoke.
“Mom, it's a good opportunity. We could make enough money to replace what you spent on the wedding.””
I looked at him.
“You think I want to make money from that land?””
“I'm just saying—”
“Your father planted trees there. His grandfather worked that ground. I sold a portion because I wanted to give you something beautiful. I won't sell the rest because your wife wants an investment opportunity.””
Tiffany rolled her eyes.
“Here we go again. Everything has to be about Robert.””
I felt my jaw tighten.
“Don't speak about my husband that way.””
“I'm simply saying he isn't here anymore.””
Daniel stepped between us.
“Tiffany, stop.””
She turned on him.
“Why? She needs to understand that the world doesn't revolve around her memories.””
I opened the door wider.
“Leave.””
Daniel looked startled.
“Mom—”
“Leave the envelope. I'll have my attorney review it.””
Tiffany clutched it against her chest.
“It's not something you need a lawyer for.””
“Then you shouldn't mind if one reads it.””
She hesitated.
Daniel reached for the envelope.
“Give it to her.””
Tiffany reluctantly handed it over.
I looked at the document through the transparent plastic sleeve.
There were several pages.
The first appeared to authorize a temporary transfer of development rights.
The second referenced a financial guarantee.
The third contained a section I couldn't immediately understand.
I didn't sign anything.
“Goodbye, Daniel.””
He looked genuinely hurt.
“You're really going to treat me like this?””
I stared at him.
“I'm treating you like someone who arrived at my house asking me to sign away property after watching his wife slap me.””
His face changed.
For a moment, I thought he might finally apologize.
Instead, he said, “You know, Mom, sometimes you make it impossible to talk to you.””
Then he walked away.
Tiffany followed, muttering something I couldn't hear.
I locked the door.
Ten minutes later, I called Helen.
She answered immediately.
“Margaret?””
“They're here.””
“Who?””
“Daniel and Tiffany. They brought a property transfer agreement.””
There was a pause.
“Did you sign it?””
“No.””
“Good. Don't sign anything. Can you send me photographs of every page?””
I laid the documents on the kitchen table.
As I photographed them, I noticed a name near the bottom of the second page.
Richard Hayes.
I zoomed in.
His company was listed as the proposed development partner.
“Who is this company?”” I asked.
Helen requested the business name and typed something.
A few moments later, her voice became noticeably colder.
“Margaret, I need you to listen carefully.””
“What is it?””
“The company listed here has been registered for less than a year.””
“So?””
“It has no substantial operating history. And the agreement appears to give the company broad authority over your property for a period of fifteen years.””
I stared at the page.
“Fifteen years?””
“Yes. It also contains language that may allow the company to use the land as security for future borrowing.””
I felt sick.
“So I could lose control of the property?””
“Potentially. We need a proper title and contract review, but I would absolutely not sign this.””
I lowered myself into a chair.
Helen continued.
“There's another issue.””
“What?””
“The document references an earlier financial authorization granted by you.””
“I never granted one.””
“I know. That's why I'm concerned. It may be connected to the forged wedding payment authorization.””
I looked at the envelope.
They hadn't simply come to ask for help.
They had brought another document built around the assumption that I would trust them.
“Margaret,” Helen said, “I want you to check whether any of your property records are missing.””
I stood and walked toward Robert's study.
His desk still smelled faintly of old wood polish.
I opened the bottom drawer where we had kept the property deeds, tax records, and estate documents.
The folder was there.
But something was wrong.
The original deed to the remaining land was missing.
I checked again.
Then I emptied the drawer.
Nothing.
My heart began beating faster.
“Helen?””
“Yes?””
“The original deed isn't here.””
Silence.
“Are you certain?””
“Absolutely.””
“When did you last see it?””
I thought back.
Four months earlier, when Daniel had asked to borrow the financial folder.
I had placed everything on the desk.
He had spent nearly twenty minutes looking through the papers.
Then he had returned the folder.
At the time, I hadn't checked every page.
“I think Daniel had it,” I whispered.
Helen's voice became firm.
“Don't accuse him yet. But we need to determine whether a copy or any other document has been used to make a property filing.””
I looked at Robert's empty chair.
For the first time since his death, I felt completely alone in that house.
Then my phone vibrated.
A text message from an unknown number appeared.
*Unknown: Mrs. Bennett, I think you should know what your son and Tiffany have been telling people about your property. I have documents that may interest you.*
I stared at the screen.
A second message followed.
*Unknown: My name is Susan Miller. I work in the office of Richard Hayes. We need to speak before Monday.*
And beneath it was a photograph.
A photograph of a document bearing my signature.
But this time, it wasn't a wedding payment authorization.
May you like
It was a property application.
And the date was three weeks before Daniel's wedding.
