Chapter 2 - The House That Was Never Going to Be Mine
David stood motionless beside the door.
Another knock sounded.
“Building security,” the man repeated. “We received a personal-safety alert from this unit.”
Brenda stepped toward me.
“Cancel it.”
“No.”
“This is a private disagreement.”
“I am not part of your family.”
“You are creating a scene that will follow you for years.”
I looked at the engagement ring lying on the authorization form.
“No, Brenda. You created it. I’m refusing to hide it.”
David reached for the handle.
Before opening the door, he turned toward me.
“Tell them it was a misunderstanding.”
I lifted the power-of-attorney form.
“Open the door.”
His jaw tightened.
Then he pulled it inward.
A tall security officer stood in the hallway wearing a dark uniform with a radio clipped near his shoulder. Behind him was Karen Ellis, the apartment building manager.
Karen’s eyes moved around the room.
She noticed my coat in my hand.
The papers spread across the table.
The ring.
David standing beside the only exit.
“Ms. Foster?” the officer asked.
“Yes.”
“Are you safe?”
David answered first.
“She’s fine. We were having a disagreement about wedding expenses.”
The officer continued looking at me.
“Were you prevented from leaving?”
Brenda exhaled loudly.
“No one prevented her from doing anything. She became upset over a financial form.”
“Yes,” I said. “David blocked the doorway after I told him I was leaving.”
David lifted his hands.
“I asked her to stay and talk.”
“You stood in front of the door.”
“For less than a minute.”
“The amount of time doesn’t change what you did.”
The officer looked at him.
“Step farther into the room.”
“This is my apartment.”
“And she says you prevented her from exiting. Move away from the doorway.”
David obeyed.
Karen stepped beside me.
“Would you like to leave?”
“Yes.”
Brenda pointed toward the folder in my hand.
“She is taking private family documents.”
“They contain my name, my bank information, and a forged authorization.”
“It is not forged. It is unsigned.”
“The power-of-attorney form was hidden beneath it.”
David turned toward his mother.
“You really planned to have her sign that after the courthouse?”
Brenda stared at him.
“I was protecting your future.”
“You lied to me.”
“I did what was necessary because you are too weak to manage her.”
The room fell silent.
David looked as though she had struck him.
I should have felt sympathy.
Instead, I remembered every time he had described my boundaries as unnecessary because confronting his mother was uncomfortable.
Karen looked at the papers.
“Rachel, photograph everything before leaving.”
I did.
The security officer remained between David and the doorway while I collected my purse and marriage-license folder.
As I walked toward the exit, David reached for my sleeve.
The officer stepped forward immediately.
David pulled his hand back.
“Rachel, please.”
I stopped.
“What?”
“Don’t call everyone yet.”
That was all.
Not, “Are you okay?”
Not, “I’m sorry.”
Not, “I should never have blocked the door.”
He was worried about humiliation.
“I won’t lie for you,” I said.
“My father is already at the courthouse.”
“Then call him.”
“He’ll be devastated.”
“So was I.”
I stepped into the hallway.
Karen came with me.
Inside the elevator, my hands finally began shaking.
Karen noticed.
“You can sit in my office downstairs.”
“I need to call my sister.”
“Do it from the lobby. You don’t have to be alone.”
When the elevator opened, I sat on a leather bench and called Claire.
She answered immediately.
“Are you heading to the courthouse? Mom keeps asking where you are.”
“The wedding is canceled.”
Silence.
Then her voice became firm.
“Where are you?”
“David’s building.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes. Security is here.”
“What happened?”
“They prepared forms to access my bank account. There was a power of attorney. David blocked the door when I tried to leave.”
Claire did not tell me to calm down.
She did not ask whether I had misunderstood.
She said, “I’m coming.”
After the call ended, my phone rang again.
Martin Dale, the manager of the bank branch where I worked.
“Rachel, did you authorize Brenda Mercer to visit the branch yesterday?”
My back straightened.
“No.”
“She told one of our junior representatives that you were getting married and wanted to update your beneficiaries.”
“What changes?”
“She tried to submit a preliminary request naming David as beneficiary on several accounts.”
“That cannot be processed without my signature.”
“It wasn’t. But she had copies of your account summaries.”
The air left my lungs.
“What kind of copies?”
“Photographs, most likely. She also presented a letter that appeared to carry your signature.”
“I never signed anything.”
“I suspected that.”
“Freeze every nonessential access point connected to my profile.”
“I’m involving compliance.”
“Preserve lobby footage and every document she presented.”
Behind me, the elevator chimed.
David entered the lobby alone.
When he saw the phone against my ear, he knew something else had been discovered.
“Rachel,” he said after I ended the call.
“Did you know your mother went to my bank yesterday?”
His confusion looked genuine.
“What?”
“She tried to change my beneficiaries.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“She had copies of my statements.”
“I didn’t give her statements.”
“You left her alone in my condo three weeks ago.”
“She was organizing guest bags.”
“I found her in my office.”
“She said she was looking for tape.”
“My account summaries were in the desk drawer.”
His face drained of color.
“I swear I didn’t know she went to your bank.”
“You gave her enough information to make the attempt believable.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No, David. None of this is fair.”
Claire entered the building at that moment.
She crossed the lobby and wrapped her arms around me.
Then she turned to him.
“What did you do?”
“It got out of control.”
“No. What did you do?”
“I didn’t know about the power of attorney.”
“Did you block the door?”
“I wanted her to stay.”
“That means yes.”
“This is between Rachel and me.”
“You made it everyone’s business when you tried to trap her inside your apartment.”
Several residents near the mailboxes began watching.
David lowered his voice.
“Can we not do this publicly?”
I stared at him.
“You keep worrying about where the truth is spoken instead of what you did.”
Claire took my purse.
We left together.
At my condo, I opened the documents Martin had sent.
The letter Brenda presented at the bank contained a signature that resembled mine from a distance.
Up close, it was wrong.
Claire stood behind me.
“She forged it.”
“It appears so.”
“Call the police.”
“I need to know how far this goes.”
My phone rang.
The caller was Thomas Mercer, David’s father.
I answered on speaker.
“Rachel, David called me.”
“Did he tell you he blocked the door?”
Silence.
“No.”
“Did he tell you Brenda prepared a power-of-attorney form in my name?”
“No.”
“Did you know she received $10,450 from our wedding account?”
Thomas said nothing for several seconds.
Then his voice became quiet.
“That amount is specific.”
“Why?”
“It is almost exactly what Brenda needed to bring one of David’s old business loans current.”
My pulse quickened.
“What business loan?”
“David and Brenda started an event-planning company four years ago. It failed.”
David had told me he had no major debt.
“How much is still owed?”
“Perhaps seventy thousand dollars.”
Claire covered her mouth.
“Was Brenda planning to use my condo equity to pay it?”
“I cannot prove that.”
“But you believe she was.”
“Yes.”
A knock sounded at my front door.
Claire checked the peephole.
“It’s David.”
I opened the door but kept the security chain attached.
David stood in the hallway holding my engagement ring.
“I left that on the table,” I said.
“I know.”
“Then why bring it?”
“Because this isn’t over.”
Behind him, the elevator opened.
Brenda stepped out carrying a thick folder.
She looked at me through the narrow opening and smiled coldly.
“You have taken this far enough,” she said. “Now you are going to hear what happens if you refuse to cooperate.”
Claire moved beside me.
“What is she doing here?”
Brenda opened the folder.
“We have signed contracts and nonrefundable obligations. If Rachel refuses to release the wedding funds, she will be held responsible for at least $32,000.”
“Our entire wedding budget was $24,000,” I said.
“Costs increased.”
“Without my approval.”
“You approved the celebration.”
“I approved a thirty-person dinner. Whose signature is on the larger venue contract?”
“David’s.”
“Then David is responsible.”
Her expression hardened.
“You cannot abandon everyone and leave them with the consequences.”
“That is exactly what you planned for me.”
The elevator opened again.
A young woman with long auburn hair stood inside. When she saw David, she froze.
He froze too.
“What is going on?” she asked.
I looked at her.
“Who are you?”
“My name is Natalie. I was supposed to meet David downstairs.”
“For what?”
“The courthouse paperwork.”
David closed his eyes.
“Natalie, leave.”
“What paperwork?” Claire demanded.
Natalie looked toward Brenda’s folder.
“The property transfer documents.”
I unhooked the chain and opened the door fully.
“What property?”
Natalie swallowed.
“Your condo.”
“I never agreed to sell it.”
She stared at David.
“You said Rachel approved everything.”
“I thought she would.”
Brenda interrupted.
“We anticipated she would make a sensible decision after marriage.”
Natalie backed away from them.
“I’m a real-estate paralegal. Brenda asked me to prepare preliminary documents for a home on Hawthorne Ridge.”
“How much was the house?” I asked.
“$1.18 million.”
David looked stunned.
“You told me it was eight hundred thousand.”
I looked at Natalie.
“Who would be listed on the deed?”
Her eyes dropped.
“David and Brenda Mercer.”
Not me.
My condo equity would provide the down payment.
My income would support the mortgage.
David and his mother would own the house.
“You never believed I was joining your family,” I told Brenda. “You believed my money was.”
Natalie raised her phone.
“There is something else. The lender would not approve David because of the business debt.”
“Then how were they financing it?” Claire asked.
Natalie looked at me.
“Using Rachel’s income documentation.”
“I never applied for a mortgage.”
“No. But someone submitted a preliminary application under your name.”
Brenda stepped toward the elevator.
Natalie continued.
“The closing appointment is Monday.”
The doors opened.
Before Brenda entered, she looked at me with naked hatred.
“You have no idea what you just destroyed.”
I raised my phone.
“No, Brenda. I finally know exactly what I stopped.”
The elevator doors closed.
Natalie looked shaken.
“There’s one more thing.”
“What?”
“The mortgage application contains a copy of your driver’s license.”
Someone had not merely planned to pressure me into signing.
May you like
They had already begun pretending to be me.
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