Chapter 3 - The Missing Papers
I tore the lockbox apart, tossing passports and birth certificates onto the floor in a blind panic.
The adoption decree was the only piece of paper missing.
"David!" I screamed, my voice cracking with absolute terror.
He rushed into the office, his eyes going wide as he saw the empty box.
"She took it," I gasped, struggling to pull air into my lungs.
"When she was here two days ago for Sunday dinner, I left my keys on the counter."
She must have unlocked the office door, opened the safe, and stolen the paperwork right under my nose.
"Why would she steal the physical copy?" David asked, trying to calm me down.
"The county courthouse has digital records, she can't undo an adoption by stealing a piece of paper."
He was right, but my mother never did anything without a calculated, malicious reason.
I grabbed my phone and dialed my older brother, Mark, ignoring the fact that it was two in the morning.
He answered on the fifth ring, sounding groggy and irritated.
"Natalie, what is wrong with you, people are trying to sleep," Mark groaned.
"What is Mom planning, Mark?" I demanded, skipping the pleasantries entirely.
There was a long, heavy silence on the other end of the line.
"I don't want to get involved in this, Nat, you know how Mom gets," he deflected weakly.
"She brought the police to my house at midnight and stole Lena's legal documents," I fired back.
I heard a sharp intake of breath through the phone receiver.
"If you don't tell me what you know, I will include you in the restraining order I am filing tomorrow," I threatened.
Mark finally cracked under the pressure.
"She hired a lawyer, Nat, one of Dad's old golfing buddies."
My stomach plummeted.
"She is filing an emergency petition to halt the finalization of the adoption," Mark confessed.
"She claims you have a history of severe mental instability and that the child is in immediate physical danger."
I felt physically sick, realizing that the CPS visit and the police wellness check were all orchestrated to create a paper trail for the judge.
"But she needs the physical decree to forge a relinquishment signature," Mark whispered.
"She is going to forge my name to give Lena back to the state," I realized in horror.
"You need to check your credit report immediately," Mark said, his voice dropping to a terrified whisper.
May you like
"She didn't just steal the adoption papers, Natalie."
Before he could explain, the line suddenly went dead.
