Chapter 3
Arthur’s hand shook violently as he held out the heavy brown envelope, the red wax seal catching the pale hallway light. The sudden appearance of the document sucked all the remaining oxygen out of the narrow space, leaving Clara and Elena staring at their father in stunned silence.
“What is that, Dad?” Clara asked, her voice losing its aggressive edge, replaced by a sudden, creeping fear.
Arthur didn’t answer immediately. He looked at Martha, his wife of forty years, who gave him a slow, heartbroken nod of permission.
“I didn’t want to do this,” Arthur began, his voice raspy and worn down by years of regret. “I hoped I would pass away in my sleep before any of this came to light. But you two couldn’t even wait until my body was cold before tearing each other apart over bricks and mortar.”
Elena took a cautious step forward, her fingers still clenched around the lawyer’s letter in her pocket. “Dad, what are you talking about? We’re just trying to figure out who owns the property now that the mortgage is paid off.”
“The house doesn’t belong to me,” Arthur said flatly, dropping the brown envelope onto the top of the nearest cardboard box. “And it certainly doesn’t belong to either of you.”
Martha turned her face away, wiping a single tear from her cheek as the full weight of the revelation settled over the family.
Clara lunged forward, snatching the envelope from the box and tearing the flap open with trembling fingers. She pulled out a thick stack of legal papers, her eyes scanning the dense paragraphs of legalese until she reached the bottom signature line.
May you like
Her breath hitched. The color drained completely from her face, leaving her looking ghostly in the bright morning light.
“This… this makes no sense,” Clara stammered, holding the paper out as if it carried a lethal disease. “Who the hell is Marcus Vance?”
