Chapter 3

In the end, I didn't sign.

"Oliver, I'm suddenly feeling a bit dizzy. I think my blood sugar dropped." I set the pen down and massaged my temples. "Give me a minute. I'll sign it in a bit."

In an instant, Oliver looked worried. "Are you okay? Want me to get you a sweet drink?"

"No, it's fine. Go do what you need to. I'll just sit for a minute."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. I've got something to handle next door. I'll be back in five minutes."

With that, he walked out of the office and shut the door.

I waited until Oliver's footsteps had faded before grabbing the phone he'd left on the desk.

The phone was locked, so I keyed in his birthday. But it wasn't the correct password. Mom and Dad's date of death wasn't it either.

Then, I tried my birthday, and the phone unlocked.

My heart hammered in my chest as I quickly opened his messages and found the conversation with Adam.

The latest text read, "Did she sign yet? The boss is really pushing me. Today's the deadline."

I scrolled up, only to see Oliver's reply. "Almost. My sister's reading the agreement. She'll sign any minute now."

A little higher up, Adam had written, "Everything's ready with the house. Once your sister signs, take her to check it out."

Oliver texted back, "Got it."

My hands went still. The house. It was the same one he had been thinking about earlier.

"Once your sister signs, take her to check it out."

Was that meant to reassure me? Or was it really a surprise?

I scrolled further up, searching for more clues.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the door. I quickly exited the chat, set the phone exactly where it had been, and resumed massaging my temples.

Oliver pushed the door open and came in holding a cup of hot chocolate. "Here. Drink this. I asked the receptionist to make it."

I took the cup and sipped it, but my mind was in turmoil. How was I supposed to make sense of those messages?

"Feeling better?"

Oliver sat across from me, looking concerned.

I nodded. "Much better."

"So…" he said, sliding the document toward me. "Should we continue?"

I looked at the agreement, then at Oliver. He looked calm. His gaze was soft, and a faint expectant smile played on his lips.

This was my little brother, and I'd raised him. He was barely a year old when he first said my name.

I took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and said, "Alright. I'll sign."

The moment the pen touched the paper, my phone buzzed. It was a message from the bank.

"Dear customer, the property registered under your name at 42 Fairview Drive has been flagged for a pending legal seizure. If you have any questions, please contact…"

My blood ran cold at once. A pending legal seizure? My house?

But I hadn't even signed the agreement yet. How could there already be a legal claim against my property?

Unless someone had already registered my information under the company. Unless someone had already set everything in motion before I signed.

My head snapped up, and I looked at Oliver. He was staring down at his phone, so he was oblivious to my expression.

I quickly closed the message and forced myself to calm down.

No. It could be a scam. Fake bank texts were everywhere these days. Just last month, I'd gotten one claiming I'd won five million dollars.

One text wasn't enough to make me believe my brother was trying to hurt me. However, I couldn't pretend nothing had happened.

"Oliver," I called out, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I just got a text saying my house is under some kind of legal seizure. Do you know anything about it?"

I studied his reaction.

He looked up, frowning. "Huh? What seizure? Let me see."

I handed him my phone.

Oliver glanced at the screen for barely two seconds before chuckling. "Come on, Daphne. It's a scam text. Look at the number. It's clearly not the bank's official one. There are tons of scammers these days. Just ignore it."

I took the phone back and looked at the sender's number. Sure enough, it wasn't an official bank number. It was just an ordinary mobile number.

I let out a sigh of relief. It really was a scam.

"That scared me to death!"

I smiled and picked up the pen again.

Oliver smiled too. "You worry too much, Daphne. Come on. Sign it. Once you're done, I'll take you somewhere."

I nodded and lowered the pen toward the signature line once more. But then something struck me.

Oliver had said, "Look at the number. It's clearly not the bank's official one."

But he had barely glanced at it. How could he tell that fast?