Chapter 12 - The House
The transfer should not have been possible.
Dad was on the deed.
Except the deed Lauren had pulled showed something different.
Six months earlier, Dad’s name had been removed.
Another document.
Another signature.
Another forgery.
Mom had then transferred the property into a trust.
Yesterday, control of that trust had been assigned to Dalia.
Dad stared at the paperwork.
“I live there.”
Lauren nodded.
“Yes.”
“I pay the mortgage.”
“Yes.”
“And legally?”
“We need to challenge the transfer.”
Dad looked twenty years older.
“What happens until then?”
“We move quickly.”
That night he stayed with us.
Mom changed the locks.
She actually changed the locks.
Dad found out when he drove home for clothes.
His key no longer worked.
Mom spoke through the door.
“You chose Vera.”
Thirty-two years of marriage.
Reduced to a locked door.
Dad came back carrying nothing.
Not even a toothbrush.
He sat at our kitchen table.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
Then he said—
“I’m filing.”
I knew what he meant.
Divorce.
I reached across the table.
He didn’t take my hand.
Not because he rejected it.
Because he was ashamed.
“I should have stopped this years ago.”
“Yes.”
His eyes met mine.
I did not soften the truth.
He nodded.
“I know.”
“You looked away.”
“Yes.”
“You let Mom make Dalia my responsibility.”
“Yes.”
“You benefited from the peace.”
His eyes filled.
“Yes.”
The honesty mattered.
More than excuses would have.
Then he took my hand.
“I’m sorry.”
For the first time in years, a member of my family apologized without adding but.
I squeezed his hand once.
“Thank you.”
The next morning, Dalia arrived at my office.
Not my apartment.
My office.
She pushed through reception before anyone could stop her.
She wore sunglasses.
Designer bag.
New car keys in her hand.
Of course.
I stepped out of the conference room.
“What are you doing here?”
“You’ve destroyed Dad.”
“No.”
“You made him leave Mom.”
“No.”
“You hired lawyers.”
“Yes.”
“You contacted Rachel.”
“She contacted me.”
“You’re trying to send Mom to prison.”
Several employees were watching.
I walked toward Dalia.
“Come outside.”
“No.”
“Then security can remove you.”
Her jaw tightened.
I had never threatened security before.
She noticed.
We went outside.
Dalia turned immediately.
“You think you won.”
“This isn’t a game.”
“It is to you.”
“No.”
She stepped closer.
“You always hated me.”
“That isn’t true.”
“Yes, it is.”
“What I hated was being responsible for you.”
Her face changed.
For one second, she looked young.
Then anger covered it.
“You liked being the successful one.”
“I liked having a life.”
“You think I ruined it.”
“You ruined my wedding cake.”
“That stupid cake again.”
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because she still did not understand.
“The cake was the cheapest thing you broke.”
She stared.
I continued.
“You broke trust.”
She rolled her eyes.
“You sound like a therapist.”
“You stole identities.”
“Rachel survived.”
“You forged my signature.”
“Mom handled that.”
“You knew.”
Silence.
“Dalia.”
I stepped closer.
“You knew.”
Her mouth tightened.
Then she said—
“Fine.”
My heartbeat slowed.
“Fine what?”
“I knew.”
The parking lot seemed to disappear around us.
She continued.
“You want the truth so badly?”
“Yes.”
Dalia smiled.
“Mom didn’t invent any of this.”
I felt something shift.
“She learned it from you.”
“What does that mean?”
“You really don’t remember?”
“Remember what?”
Her smile widened.
“College.”
My stomach tightened.
“Your first year.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You will.”
She walked toward her new car.
May you like
Then looked over her shoulder.
“Ask Dad who paid your tuition when you were nineteen.”
