Part 2
My key would not turn. It wasn’t that I had the wrong key, but someone had replaced the entire lock cylinder on the front door.
I stood motionless in front of the entrance with the sound of the waves behind me and an icy feeling settling in my chest. I knocked three times, very loudly.
Mindy, who was Tiffany’s sister, opened the door with messy hair and a coffee mug in her hand. “Oh, Mrs. Sterling,” she said, treating me like an unwelcome solicitor. “Did you forget something?”
“Yes, I forgot several things including my clothes, documents, and personal belongings,” I replied firmly. Mindy hesitated and looked me up and down before closing the door in my face to go ask Tiffany for permission.
Five minutes later, Tiffany appeared wearing my favorite bathrobe with her hair still wet from a shower. “What happened now?” she asked while feigning a look of concern.
“I need to get my things out of the house,” I told her. “Right now everything is a mess since we have taken apart rooms and moved furniture, so maybe it would be better if you came back next week,” she suggested.
“No, I am going in today,” I insisted. She let me pass, but she did it with the attitude of someone granting a massive favor.
I went straight up to the master bedroom where the bed was unmade and other people’s cosmetics were scattered across my dresser. I felt a pang of disgust, but I kept moving toward the closet.
Behind some old winter coats, there was a hidden panel that Winston had helped me install years ago. I pressed the exact spot and the secret compartment popped open.
Inside was the fireproof box where I kept the original deed, property tax receipts, and all the payments made in my name. I took out the folder and started reviewing the papers until I saw a document that stopped my heart.
It was an assignment of rights. Using a forged version of my name and signature, it transferred fifty percent of the property to Peter and Tiffany.
The date on the paper was from six months ago. My hands went numb because I had never signed such a thing or authorized any transfer.
I took clear pictures of it with my phone and tucked my real documents into my bag. I left the fake document exactly where I had found it so they wouldn’t know I knew.
When I walked back downstairs, Tiffany was waiting for me with her arms crossed. “Are you done already?” she asked.
