Chapter 3 - The Ghost in the Ledger
The coffee shop down the street from the municipal building smelled of burnt espresso and old newspapers. Franklin sat across from me, her laptop open, her screen displaying a spiderweb of financial records she had pulled via expedited discovery subpoenas over the last seventy-two hours.
"It’s worse than we thought, Mara," Franklin said, turning the screen toward me. "They didn't just take out the one hundred and fifty thousand dollar line of credit. Look at the subsequent withdrawals. Your sister’s boyfriend, Shane, has been drawing down on that equity line like a personal ATM. Five thousand here for 'equipment rentals,' eight thousand there for 'consulting fees.' They’ve nearly maxed it out. There’s less than four thousand dollars left in that account."
I looked at the numbers, the dates matching perfectly with the months I had been working eighty-hour weeks to pay for Ruby’s speech therapy and the sensory integration classes she needed after the adoption. Every time I had complained to my mother about the rising costs of childcare, she had given me a small, patronizing sigh and said, "Well, Mara, you chose to take on a special needs child. We all have our burdens to bear. Look at poor Brittany, she can barely afford groceries."
Meanwhile, Brittany was driving a brand-new suburban SUV paid for by the marrow of the house my grandfather had left me to ensure I would always have a safety net.
"Can they pay me out?" I asked, my voice hollow. "If the judge orders a buyout instead of a forced sale, do they even have the liquidity?"
"Not a chance," Franklin said, snapping her laptop shut with a decisive click. "Your mother’s pension is modest, and Brittany hasn't held a steady job since the administration offices closed three years ago. Shane’s business is a shell. If the court orders a buyout, they will fail to perform within the standard thirty days. The house will go to an automated partition auction on the courthouse steps. And because the mortgage is fraudulent, the bank is going to call the entire loan due immediately. The title is completely clouded."
My phone buzzed against the laminate table. It was a text from Simone.
Ruby ate two pieces of toast and is drawing a picture of her fox under a big umbrella. She asked if Grandma is still mad at her.
My chest tightened until it felt like the ribs were overlapping. I took a deep breath, the anger returning, cold and clean and clear. "I don't care if they have to live in a trailer park, Franklin. Proceed with the forced sale. I want every penny of my grandfather's share, and I want the loan balance shifted entirely onto my mother and sister’s remaining equity."
"And the criminal referral?" Franklin asked, her eyes searching mine for any sign of familial weakness. "The state takes forgery very seriously when it involves real estate title. If the prosecutor takes this up, your mother could be facing a felony conviction. At her age, it would likely be probation and community service, but the record would follow her forever."
"She didn't care about my record when she put my name on a fraudulent bank document," I said, rising from the table. "She didn't care about Ruby's safety when she left her on an icy porch after an earthquake. Let the law do what the law does."
We walked back to the courthouse under a sky that was turning the color of wet slate. The wind was picking up, blowing dry oak leaves across the concrete stairs. In the lobby, I saw Shane standing by the vending machines, his heavy boots scuffing the marble, his face red as he argued with Brittany near the elevators. He looked up and saw me, his eyes narrowing into that specific, aggressive glare he usually reserved for people who didn't let him cut in line at the boat ramp.
"You think you're real smart, don't you, Mara?" Shane said, stepping into my path as Franklin stayed half a step behind me. "You’re going to ruin everything we’ve built over a petty grudge because your kid couldn't spend one night in a spare bedroom."
"Step back, sir," Franklin said, her voice dropping into a register that made two security guards near the metal detectors look over.
May you like
"I’m talking to my sister-in-law," Shane spat, though he took half a step back anyway. "You’re a piece of work, Mara. Our grandfather wanted that house to stay in the family. He’s rolling in his grave right now looking at what you're doing to your own mother."
"Grandpa left that house to three people, Shane," I said, looking him dead in the eye until his gaze flickered toward the floor. "Not to two people and a parasite. Tell Brittany to save her breath for the afternoon session. She’s going to need it."
