PART 6

I looked at Samuel.

“The lake property?”

He nodded.

“That is the part I hoped we’d never have to discuss.”

I sat down.

“What is it?”

He took a deep breath.

“Dorothy, Raymond and I discovered something shortly before his death.”

“What?”

“The land around the lake.”

I waited.

“There are development plans.”

I frowned.

“What kind of development?”

“A private resort.”

I stared at him.

“So?”

“So your house sits on a parcel that gives access to the lake.”

I didn’t understand.

“Why does that matter?”

“Because the developers want access through your property.”

My mouth fell open.

“How much?”

Samuel looked at me.

“More than $430,000.”

My heart began pounding.

“How much more?”

He slid another document toward me.

“Seven hundred thousand was the original offer.”

I stared at the number.

Then another figure caught my eye.

$1,200,000 — revised acquisition proposal.

I couldn’t speak.

Samuel continued.

“Raymond refused.”

“Why?”

“Because he knew the developers would eventually need your parcel.”

I looked at the house around me.

The kitchen.

The hallway.

The window where Mark had learned to ride a bicycle.

The bedroom where Raymond had slept.

This wasn’t just a house.

It was the last physical piece of our life together.

And suddenly Alicia’s words came back to me.

Bruce says one-eighty, easy.

One hundred eighty thousand.

She wasn’t planning to sell the house for its real value.

She was planning to steal it for a fraction of what it was worth.

I looked at Samuel.

“Did Alicia know about the development?”

“We don’t know yet.”

“Bruce?”

“We suspect he did.”

I picked up the statement again.

“Then what was the $25,000 payment?”

Samuel leaned forward.

“That is what we’re going to find out.” Two days later, I received a phone call. Advertisement

“Yes.”

“I need to see you.”

I was quiet.

“Why?”

“I found something.”

I looked at Samuel.

He was sitting across from me.

“Come tomorrow,” I said.

“Okay.”

“And Mark?”

“Yes?”

“Come alone.”

There was a long pause.

“Okay.”

The next afternoon, Mark arrived at 2:00.

He looked exhausted.

His shirt was wrinkled.

His eyes were red.

He stood on the porch for almost a minute before knocking.

When I opened the door, he didn’t say hello.

He simply said:

“I’ve been an idiot.”

I stepped aside.

“Come in.”

He sat at the kitchen table.

The same chair he had sat in two days earlier.

I made coffee.

He didn’t touch it.

“Mom, I went through Alicia’s office.”

I raised an eyebrow.

“That’s not something I’m proud of.”

“What did you find?”

He pulled out a folder.

“She has copies of documents about your house.”

I took them.

Some were mine.

Some were not.

Then I found something that made my heart stop.

A handwritten note.

Bruce — Need Dorothy’s signature before December 15.

Below it:

Development offer increases after January 1.

I looked at Mark.

“What does this mean?”

“I don’t know.”

Samuel picked up the paper.

He studied it.

Then he looked at me.

“This confirms it.”

“What?”

“They weren’t just trying to sell the house.”

“They were trying to sell it before the development company made a higher offer.”

Mark stared.

“How much higher?”

Samuel answered.

“Possibly over a million dollars.”

Mark’s face drained.

“Mom…”

I looked at him.

He covered his mouth.

“I swear I didn’t know.”

“I believe you.”

He looked at me.

“You do?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because if you knew, you’d be a different person.”

He began crying.

“I don’t deserve you.”

I sat across from him.

“No.”

He looked up.

“You deserve consequences.”

He nodded.

“But,” I continued, “you also deserve a chance to become someone better.”

He wiped his face.

“What do I have to do?”

I thought about it.

“Tell me everything.”

He nodded.

So he did.

For nearly two hours.

He told me Alicia had been obsessed with money for years.

She had accumulated debt.

She had borrowed against credit cards.

She had secretly taken out loans.

And when she discovered the value of my property, she began planning.

At first, Mark thought it was simply about helping me move somewhere smaller.

Then Alicia started talking about the house.

Then the money.

Then the boat.

Then the lake.

Eventually, she convinced him that I would never need the house again.

“She said you were getting old,” he whispered.

I looked at him.

“She said you were getting old?”

He nodded.

“She said you were lonely.”

I looked around my kitchen.

“She said you were wasting the house.”

I felt something harden inside me.

“She said you would be happier in a community.”

I shook my head.

“No.”

Mark looked confused.

“She was wrong about one thing.”

“What?”

“I wasn’t wasting my house.”

I looked at him.

“I was waiting for my son to remember who I was.”

He began crying again.

This time, I reached across the table.

I took his hand.

But I didn’t say everything was forgiven.

Because it wasn’t.

Not yet.

CONTINUE FOR NEXT PART…