Chapter 3 - The Paper Trail
I ended the call without saying another word and turned my phone completely off.
Letting Bobby sit in a jail cell was the first boundary I had successfully enforced in my entire adult life.
The next morning, I drove downtown to meet with a highly recommended financial attorney named Mr. Vance.
I slid a thick binder of documents across his polished mahogany desk, detailing the forged loan and years of financial abuse.
Mr. Vance adjusted his glasses and spent an hour carefully reviewing the banking records and property deeds I had provided.
His expression grew increasingly serious as he traced the complex web of money flowing from my accounts to my parents.
"Your mother committed severe wire fraud, and we can easily press federal charges," Mr. Vance assured me.
A small wave of relief washed over me, knowing I finally had a powerful ally in my corner.
"However, there is something much more pressing hidden in these property tax records," the lawyer stated.
He pulled out the deed to the luxurious ski cabin that my family treated as their personal vacation home.
I had been paying the taxes and utility bills for that property for over five years.
"Your parents transferred the deed of the cabin entirely into your name six years ago," he revealed.
I looked at him in total confusion, having absolutely no memory of signing any property transfer documents.
"They did it to hide their assets from a massive IRS audit, meaning you are the sole legal owner of that real estate," he explained.
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Before I could even process this incredible revelation, my phone suddenly lit up with a text message from Steven.
"The heat is completely shut off at the cabin, and my prospective investors are freezing to death, turn it back on right now."
