Chapter 8: The House They Thought They Owned
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe.
“Transferred ownership rights?””
I repeated the words because my brain refused to accept them.
Margaret’s voice remained steady on the phone.
“Emily, I need you to listen carefully. I said may have. We are still verifying the document’s authenticity.””
I looked at Eric.
He was standing beside Kyle’s desk, staring at the laptop like it had betrayed him.
But I couldn’t focus on that anymore.
Not after hearing those words.
My house.
The one place I thought I could return to.
The one thing in my life that had always been mine.
Someone had tried to take that too.
“Eric,” I said.
He looked up.
“What?””
“Did you sign anything related to this house?””
His face changed.
A fraction of a second.
But I saw it.
“Emily…”
“Did you?””
“I need to explain.””
“No.””
My voice was calm.
Too calm.
“Answer the question.””
He looked down.
And that was when I knew.
“Eric.””
He swallowed.
“Yes.””
The word barely left his mouth.
But it felt like it shook the entire room.
Diane appeared at the top of the stairs.
“What did he do?””
Nobody answered.
She looked between us.
Then at Eric.
“Eric?””
He closed his eyes.
“I signed something.””
My stomach twisted.
“What did you sign?””
“I thought it was temporary.””
“That isn’t an answer.””
“It was a security agreement.””
I stared at him.
“A security agreement using my house?””
“It wasn’t supposed to matter.””
I laughed.
A short, empty laugh.
“Not supposed to matter?””
“Emily, listen—”
“No.””
I stepped away.
“You keep saying that.””
“What?””
“Listen.””
My eyes burned.
“You have asked me to listen every single time after you make a decision without me.””
He looked hurt.
But I couldn’t let that distract me anymore.
“What exactly did you sign?””
Eric rubbed his face.
“My father said it was just protection.””
“Protection for who?””
Silence.
I nodded.
“Exactly.””
Diane came downstairs slowly.
“What is happening?””
I turned toward her.
“You tell me.””
Her face tightened.
“Don’t speak to me like that.””
“Why?””
I pointed around the house.
“Because you moved into my home.””
“You mean your house.””
“Yes.””
“You’re still holding onto that?””
I stared at her.
“Yes.””
She looked offended.
“You really are willing to destroy this family over paperwork.””
“No.””
I shook my head.
“I’m trying to stop this family from destroying me.””
For once, she had no immediate answer.
Margaret told me to meet her immediately.
I left the house without saying goodbye.
This time, Eric didn’t stop me.
Maybe he knew he had no right.
Maybe he was finally beginning to understand.
The drive to Margaret’s office felt longer than usual.
Every red light gave me another chance to think.
And every thought made things worse.
The worst part wasn’t the money.
It wasn’t even the documents.
It was remembering all the moments when I could have noticed.
The way Eric became nervous when bills arrived.
The way he suddenly cared about my accounts.
The way Diane started asking questions about the house.
I had mistaken their curiosity for concern.
It was preparation.
When I arrived, Margaret was already waiting.
She placed a folder on the table.
“Before you look at this, I need you to understand something.””
I nodded.
“What?””
“This document may not be legally valid.””
“May not?””
“Yes.””
“Then why are we worried?””
“Because someone believed it was valid.””
I looked at her.
“What does that mean?””
“It means someone used this document to convince another party that they had authority over your property.””
My hands tightened.
“Who?””
She opened the folder.
A copy of the agreement was inside.
At the bottom were signatures.
Eric’s.
And another.
I looked closer.
The second signature wasn’t Diane’s.
It wasn’t Kyle’s.
It belonged to someone else.
Someone I had seen before.
Someone connected to Eric’s family.
“His brother.””
Margaret nodded.
“Yes.””
I stared at the page.
“So Eric’s brother helped him.””
“According to these records, yes.””
“And Kyle?””
“We’re still investigating.””
I leaned back.
“This is unbelievable.””
Margaret looked at me carefully.
“Emily.””
“Yes?””
“Did Eric ever tell you he was under pressure from his family?””
I thought about it.
“No.””
“Did he ever seem afraid of them?””
That question surprised me.
Because suddenly, I remembered.
Not fear exactly.
Something else.
A kind of obligation.
Like Eric had spent his whole life trying to prove himself to people who would never be satisfied.
“He always wanted his father’s approval.””
Margaret nodded.
“That matters.””
“Why?””
“Because people who want approval badly can be manipulated.””
I looked at the documents.
“So you think Eric was tricked?””
“I think we need evidence before deciding anything.””
I appreciated that.
Margaret never told me what to feel.
She only showed me what was real.
“And the house?””
She opened another file.
“The good news is that the original ownership remains yours.””
I exhaled.
“But?””
“But someone attempted to create a claim against it.””
I nodded slowly.
“So they tried.””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
Margaret looked at me.
“Because they needed something valuable.””
My stomach sank.
“They weren’t trying to live here.””
“No.””
She closed the folder.
“They were trying to use it.””
When I returned to the house that evening, something felt different.
Quiet.
Too quiet.
The front door was unlocked.
I stepped inside.
“Eric?””
No answer.
I walked into the living room.
The boxes were still there.
The motorcycle helmet.
The changed furniture.
Everything that had made my home feel unfamiliar.
Then I noticed something.
Kyle’s boxes were gone.
His shoes.
His jacket.
His gaming equipment.
All gone.
My phone rang.
Eric.
I answered.
“Where are you?””
His breathing was heavy.
“I left.””
“Why?””
“Because I found something.””
I froze.
“What?””
“About Kyle.””
I looked around.
“Where are you?””
“I’m at my brother’s place.””
“Eric.””
“I found bank statements.””
My grip tightened.
“What kind of statements?””
“Kyle wasn’t just helping with the investment.””
A cold feeling spread through me.
“What did he do?””
“He moved money.””
“Whose money?””
Silence.
Then:
“Mine.””
I closed my eyes.
“And?””
Eric’s voice cracked.
“And yours.””
I sat down.
“Explain.””
“I found transfers from the account.””
“The account with my signature?””
“Yes.””
My heart pounded.
“Eric, what are you saying?””
“I’m saying Kyle may have been the one who accessed everything.””
I looked around the empty room.
The room he had entered like he belonged.
The room where he laughed at my boundaries.
“Why would he do that?””
Eric didn’t answer immediately.
Then:
“Because he wasn’t trying to get back on his feet.””
“What was he trying to do?””
His voice dropped.
“He was trying to cover what he had already taken.””
I stood.
“What?””
“Emily…”
“No.””
I walked toward the stairs.
“What did he take?””
Another pause.
Then Eric said:
“The money wasn’t lost in an investment.””
I stopped.
“What?””
“It was stolen.””
The house suddenly felt colder.
Because every piece of this story had changed.
The loan.
The signatures.
The moving boxes.
The invasion of my home.
It wasn’t a desperate family trying to survive.
It was something much worse.
Someone had been using us.
And before I could answer, Eric whispered:
“Emily, there’s one more thing.””
“What?””
“I found the original documents.””
“Which documents?””
“The ones with your signature.””
My heart stopped.
“And?””
“And the person who created the fake signature…”
He hesitated.
Then said:
“It wasn’t Kyle.””
I gripped the phone.
“Who was it?””
May you like
Eric’s voice broke.
“It was someone you trusted enough to give a key to your house.””
