Chapter 2 - TWO HOURS
Clarissa stopped the recording before the others could hear more.
Her first instinct was to take Dustin and leave.
Her second was to remain exactly where she stood until she understood what was happening.
Alana watched her closely.
“Who sent that?”
“A wrong number.”
“You looked frightened.”
“I’m not.”
Clarissa slipped the phone into her pocket.
Alana’s eyes narrowed.
For years, Clarissa had underestimated her mother-in-law. She had viewed Alana as controlling and judgmental, but predictable.
Now she noticed the calculation behind the older woman’s silence.
Alana did not ask what the message said.
She asked who sent it.
That meant she might already know the content.
Clarissa turned toward Dustin.
“Upstairs. Now.”
He nodded and hurried away.
Ellie rose from the table.
“You can’t throw us out.”
“I just did.”
“Parker invited us.”
“Parker is not here.”
Ellie lifted her phone.
“He will be.”
She called him.
Clarissa heard Parker answer after the first ring.
Ellie exaggerated her distress.
“Clarissa came home screaming. She threw food at us and scared everyone. Now she’s forcing us out.”
Clarissa almost laughed.
Even Dustin’s humiliation had become an opportunity for Ellie to cast herself as the victim.
Ellie listened, then looked pleased.
“He’s coming.”
“Good,” Clarissa said. “He can help carry your luggage.”
Alana stood.
Unlike Ellie, she did not look confident.
She approached Clarissa and lowered her voice.
“Whatever message you received, delete it.”
Clarissa’s pulse quickened.
“I thought it was a wrong number.”
“Do not play games with me.”
“Then stop pretending you don’t know what it is.”
Alana glanced toward the staircase.
“This family has protected you from truths you were too fragile to survive.”
Clarissa held her gaze.
“Protected me?”
“Your father understood.”
The mention of her father felt like a blade pressed beneath her ribs.
Thomas Vale had died four years earlier after his car went through the railing of a bridge during a storm.
The police ruled it an accident.
He had been driving alone.
Clarissa had always blamed herself for missing his last phone call.
She still had the voicemail he left her.
Call me when you can, sweetheart. There is something important I need to explain.
She had returned the call the next morning.
By then, he was dead.
“What did my father understand?” Clarissa asked.
Alana stepped back.
“I have said too much.”
“You haven’t said enough.”
The front door opened.
Parker entered without knocking, his expression severe.
He looked first at his mother, then Ellie, then Clarissa.
“What happened?”
Clarissa pointed toward the trash.
“Your mother fed Dustin cold potatoes while the rest of the family ate fried chicken.”
Parker removed his jacket.
“I drove across town because of dinner?”
Alana sighed.
“You see what I endure?”
Clarissa studied her husband’s face.
Not one sign of concern.
Not one question about Dustin.
“Where is he?” Parker asked.
“Upstairs.”
“Good. We should discuss this without him listening.”
Clarissa took out her phone.
“Yes. We should.”
Parker noticed it.
His eyes changed.
It happened quickly, but Clarissa saw it.
Fear.
“Did someone call you?”
“Why?”
“I asked a question.”
“So did I.”
Ellie stepped between them.
“She gave us two hours to leave.”
Parker looked at Clarissa.
“You cannot evict my family from my house.”
Clarissa felt strangely calm.
“Your house?”
He hesitated.
Alana answered for him.
“That is what the deed says.”
Clarissa knew that was false.
Her father had purchased the property twelve years ago through Vale Holdings. After he died, Clarissa inherited it. Parker managed the taxes because he handled their joint finances, but he had never owned the house.
Unless something had changed without her knowledge.
“Show me the deed,” Clarissa said.
Parker’s jaw tightened.
“This is ridiculous.”
“Show me.”
“I don’t carry property documents in my pocket.”
“Then we’ll look them up.”
Clarissa walked toward the study.
Parker caught her wrist.
The room became silent.
He did not squeeze hard, but the gesture carried a warning.
“Do not turn a family disagreement into something ugly.”
Clarissa looked down at his hand.
“Let go.”
Parker released her.
A small red mark remained around her wrist.
She continued toward the study.
Behind her, Alana said, “Parker, stop her.”
Clarissa entered the room and locked the door.
She opened her laptop.
Her fingers trembled as she searched the county property database.
The page loaded slowly.
Owner: Vale Residential Trust.
Clarissa frowned.
She had never heard of it.
The trust had been registered three months after her father’s death.
Trustee: Parker James Mercer.
Her stomach twisted.
She clicked through scanned documents.
One contained her signature.
Except it was not her signature.
It resembled hers, but the final stroke curved in the wrong direction.
Someone had transferred control of her property into a trust managed by Parker.
Someone had forged her name.
A soft knock came at the door.
“Clarissa,” Parker said. “Open the door.”
She downloaded every document.
Another message arrived from the unknown number.
CHECK THE DATE OF NOTARIZATION.
Clarissa found the date.
September 14.
She remembered that day clearly.
She had been in the hospital undergoing emergency surgery for a ruptured appendix.
The document claimed she had appeared in person before a notary at eleven that morning.
At eleven that morning, she had been unconscious.
Parker knocked harder.
“Open the door.”
Clarissa forwarded the files to a private email account.
Then she noticed something else.
The notary’s name.
Nathan Cole.
Her father’s attorney.
The same man who had disappeared after the funeral.
May you like
Before Clarissa could examine the document more closely, the handle began to turn.
Parker had a key.
