Chapter 3: The House Beneath My Feet
My lawyer, Martin Hale, placed the blue file beside the cream envelope.
Claire kept one hand on the doorknob.
“Sit down, Claire,” Martin said.
“You can’t order me around in my mother’s house.”
“No,” I said.
“But I can ask why Daniel applied to control it.”
Her hand dropped.
Martin opened the file and turned a document toward me.
“This is a petition claiming you can no longer manage your finances.”
Claire stared at the signature at the bottom.
“Daniel said it was only a precaution.”
“My name is on it,” I said.
“But that is not my handwriting.”
“You signed dozens of papers.”
“I sign my name as Eleanor M.
Walsh.
This says Eleanor Walsh.”
Claire folded her arms.
“That proves nothing.”
Martin placed another page on top.
“Then perhaps this will.
Someone submitted a medical letter claiming Eleanor has severe memory problems.”
“I’ve never met this doctor,” I said.
Claire’s mouth opened, but her phone rang.
Daniel’s name filled the screen.
“Answer it,” I said.
“Put him on speaker.”
She hesitated before touching the button.
“Did she open the envelope?” Daniel asked.
“I’m here, Daniel,” I said.
Silence came through the phone.
Then his voice softened.
“Eleanor, this is a misunderstanding.”
“You tried to take forty thousand dollars.”
“It was for Claire.
She’s your daughter.”
“My daughter does not become entitled to my savings because she wants them.”
“You told us you wanted to help.”
“I offered to pay for a roof repair.
I did not offer you my accounts.”
Daniel laughed once.
“You forget things.
That’s why Claire needed authority.”
Martin leaned closer to the phone.
“Mr.
Bennett, I advise you to stop speaking.”
“And I advise you to stay out of family business.”
“This became legal business when Eleanor’s signature was copied.”
Claire seized the phone.
“Daniel, tell them about the other papers.”
“What other papers?” he asked too quickly.
Martin removed a contract from the file.
“The agreement to sell Eleanor’s house to Bennett Property Holdings for one dollar.”
Claire sank into a chair.
“One dollar?”
“It keeps the property in the family,” Daniel said.
“It puts it in your company,” I replied.
“You weren’t supposed to see that version.”
The room went still.
Martin tapped the final page.
“The transfer is scheduled to be recorded Friday morning.”
Claire gripped her phone.
“You said Mom had agreed.”
“She did.”
“No, Daniel,” I said.
“I didn’t.”
His voice hardened.
“Be careful, Eleanor.
If you accuse us publicly, Claire could lose everything.”
“What does that mean?”
He ended the call.
Claire stared at the dark screen.
“He must be talking about our mortgage.”
Martin closed the file.
“We need to speak with the bank before Daniel realizes we know.”
“I’ll come,” Claire said.
“No,” I replied.
“Until I know which side you’re on, you’ll stay away from my accounts.”
Tears rose in her eyes, but her chin lifted.
“You’ve always expected the worst from me.”
“You asked me to eat in a kitchen after I served your guests.”
“That dinner has nothing to do with this.”
“It told me exactly how little you thought I deserved.”
Martin’s phone vibrated.
He read the message and looked at Claire.
“The bank found security footage from the attempted transfer.”
Claire stood so quickly that the chair tipped backward.
May you like
Martin held up the screen.
“And you’re standing beside Daniel at the counter.”
