Chapter 3

I was rooted to the spot.

The man spotted me and came over.

"Ms. Jones?"

"Who...who are you?"

"Your creditor sent us." He fished out a document. "Here's the mortgage you signed for 150,000 dollars. It was due last month. Pay up now, and we're gone. If not..."

His gaze slid past me to the door. "We'll repossess the house."

I took the paper, my eyes scanning it quickly.

A mortgage contract.

The property: Greenfield Building 8, Unit 2.

The loan: 150,000 dollars.

My name was on the signature line.

However, that scribble? It was not mine.

"I didn't sign this."

"Whether you did or didn't, the notary has the record." He snatched the paper back. "Ms. Jones, you've got three days to get the cash. Otherwise..."

His smirk sent a shiver through me.

"You know what comes next."

They turned and left.

I just stood there at the door, a whole five minutes passing by.

I stepped inside, booted up my computer, and logged into the real estate registry's website. With a few keystrokes, I entered my home's details and hit the search button. The screen took its sweet time, 20 seconds to be exact, before it revealed the punch to my gut.

[Property Status: Mortgaged.]

[Mortgage Amount: 150,000 dollars.]

[Date of Registration: December 18, 2025.]

December 18th. That was only three days after my nephew's birthday bash. I had been stuck in a marathon meeting at work that day, from the crack of dawn until the last light, never setting foot near any registry, let alone signing any papers. Yet, there it was in black and white; my identity had been hijacked to put my house on the line.

I snatched my phone and called Darcy. "Mom, is my house really mortgaged?"

The line went dead for a beat. "How'd you find out?"

"Some folks showed up to claim it."

"Oh," she replied, her voice cool as ice. "Just tell them to swing by in a couple of months."

"Mom, that signature on the contract is mine, but I never signed it."

"You didn't sign, so I had to take matters into my own hands," she said, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

My grip on the phone tightened. "You had someone forge my signature?"

"It's not forging. I just helped you out with a little scribble," she said, as if she had done me a favor. "Besides, that house is going to be my grandson's eventually. What's the harm in using it a bit early?"

"Mom, we're talking about 150,000 dollars here."

"So? Jim will have it covered in two months."

"The contract says one month, and we're already past due."

Silence fell on her end for a heartbeat. "Past due? Just give it a few more days. I'll sort it out..."

"Mom, I just need a straight answer. Are you guys going to pay for it or not?"

"What's the rush? Jim's got it under control..."

"Do you even realize the crime you've committed by faking a signature?" I asked.

The line went completely quiet.

"Mom, you've got three days. Pay them and get that mortgage cleared in three days."

"How am I supposed to come up with 150,000 dollars?" she said.

"Let Jim handle it. It's his mess, isn't it?"

"He's strapped for cash right now..."

"Then, he can sell his car. His Audi, the one he bought for over 40,000 dollars. It'll cover some of the debt."

"That car is his..."

I cut her off. "Mom, you've got three days. If you don't fix this, I'm going to the cops."

"What?" Her voice spiked. "You're going to the cops?"

"Forgery, fraudulently mortgaging. It's all fraud."

"I'm your mother-in-law!"

"Lawbreakers go to jail, mother-in-law or not."

"Shirley, if you even think about calling the cops, you can kiss your marriage goodbye! I'll have Howard divorce you!"

"Think before you say something you'll regret."

"I don't need to think! You really think I won't..."

I ended the call.

Then, I played back the recording on my phone.

From the moment she said, "How did you find out?" until she said, "I'll have Howard divorce you."

I had caught every word.

I saved the recording carefully.

…

The next morning, I skipped work and headed straight for the County Clerk's office.