Chapter 3 - The Secret Hidden in My Father's Office
I had never seen my father look so angry.
Not when I dented his truck at sixteen.
Not when a neighbor accused me of damaging his fence.
Not even when someone broke into our garage two years earlier.
But now, standing beside the patio table, Dad looked as though he was holding back something enormous.
"Everybody inside," he said.
Claire stared at Victor's message.
"Marcus, he might come back."
"Then we call the police."
Maya began crying again.
"I don't want Uncle Victor arrested."
Dad looked at her.
"Someone threatened this family and tried to frame Jordan."
His voice remained steady.
"Protecting him from consequences is not our responsibility."
I picked up my clothes.
Dad helped me.
Neither of us spoke.
Inside, Claire locked the back door.
Maya sat at the kitchen table.
I remained standing.
I didn't want to sit beside her.
I didn't want to hear another apology.
All I could think about was the moment Claire shoved my bag into my chest.
The way Maya had looked at the ground.
The possibility that my future could have been damaged by one terrible lie.
Dad called the local police department.
He explained that a family member had threatened us and that security footage showed suspicious activity.
He didn't exaggerate.
He described exactly what we knew.
An officer said someone would come to speak with us.
Then Dad turned to Claire.
"What does Victor know about our house?"
She looked down.
"I don't know."
"Claire."
She began trembling.
"He helped me refinance some business expenses."
Dad stared at her.
"What business expenses?"
"My catering company."
Claire operated a small business preparing food for weddings and corporate events.
She had started it before marrying Dad.
At first, it had done well.
But the previous year had been difficult.
Several clients canceled large events.
Equipment repairs became expensive.
And Claire had begun taking fewer bookings.
I knew the business was struggling.
I didn't know Victor had become involved.
Dad folded his arms.
"Did you borrow money?"
Claire nodded.
"Thirty thousand dollars."
His expression changed.
"From who?"
"Victor said he knew a private lender."
Dad closed his eyes.
"Did you sign documents?"
She nodded again.
I felt sick.
Dad asked the next question slowly.
"Did you use this house as collateral?"
Claire looked horrified.
"No."
"Are you sure?"
"I would never do that."
Dad took a breath.
"Then show me everything."
Claire retrieved her laptop.
She opened a folder labeled Business Financing.
Dad sat beside her.
I stood behind them.
There were loan agreements.
Bank statements.
Email exchanges.
Most appeared normal at first.
Then Dad stopped scrolling.
"What's this?"
Claire leaned closer.
A document contained our address.
It listed Dad as a property owner.
Below that was a signature.
Marcus Williams.
My father stared at it.
"I never signed this."
Claire looked shocked.
"Victor told me you approved it."
Dad turned toward her.
"When?"
She hesitated.
"He said you'd discussed it privately."
My father stood.
"Claire, I haven't discussed any loan with Victor."
Her eyes filled.
"I didn't know."
He looked devastated.
But he didn't shout.
Instead, he asked her to forward every document to him.
Then he called an attorney.
His name was Samuel Price.
He had handled several property matters for Dad over the years.
Samuel listened carefully.
Then he asked Dad to preserve the documents and avoid signing anything else.
He explained that a suspicious signature didn't automatically mean our home had been transferred or legally encumbered.
But the situation required urgent verification.
While Dad spoke with Samuel, I went into the hallway.
I needed air.
Maya followed me.
"Jordan?"
I kept walking.
"Please."
I stopped near the stairs.
"What?"
She looked miserable.
"I'm sorry."
I stared at her.
"You already said that."
"I know."
"Do you understand what you accused me of?"
She began crying.
"Yes."
"No, Maya. I don't think you do."
She looked down.
"You told your mother I tried to attack you."
Her shoulders shook.
"Victor said it would only scare you into leaving."
I felt my anger rise.
"And that made it okay?"
"No."
"You watched Claire throw my belongings outside."
"I know."
"You heard her threaten to call the police."
Maya wiped her face.
"I didn't think it would go that far."
I shook my head.
"That's the problem. You didn't think about what could happen to me."
She covered her mouth.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she whispered something unexpected.
"Victor has been threatening me too."
I looked at her.
"What do you mean?"
She glanced toward the kitchen.
"He said he could ruin my college applications."
I frowned.
"How?"
She took out her phone.
There were messages from Victor.
He claimed to have evidence that Maya had cheated on a school examination.
Maya insisted she hadn't.
Victor had once helped her recover files from her damaged laptop.
She believed he had taken screenshots of unfinished assignments and altered them to look suspicious.
I studied the messages.
He had threatened to send them to her school unless she obeyed him.
My anger didn't disappear.
But I understood that Maya had been frightened.
"Why didn't you tell anyone?"
She began crying harder.
"Because he said Mom would get arrested, and I'd lose everything."
I looked at her.
"You should have told Dad."
She nodded.
"I know."
I stepped back.
"I need time, Maya."
She looked devastated.
"Do you hate me?"
I considered the question.
"No."
Her face lifted slightly.
"But I don't trust you."
She began crying again.
I walked away.
That evening, the police came.
Dad showed them the security footage.
Maya explained that Victor had instructed her to accuse me.
Claire provided the threatening message.
The officers documented everything and explained the next steps.
They also advised us to preserve electronic evidence.
Afterward, Samuel called Dad.
He had reviewed the documents Claire sent.
There was a troubling inconsistency.
The loan amount listed on the original agreement was thirty thousand dollars.
But another document appeared to authorize a much larger financial obligation.
Dad opened the file.
I looked over his shoulder.
The figure made my stomach drop.
Two hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
Claire stared at the screen.
"That's impossible."
Dad's voice became very quiet.
"Where did this come from?"
She shook her head.
"I've never seen it."
Samuel explained that the document needed to be verified with the alleged lender.
Dad asked whether it could affect the house.
Samuel paused.
Then he said something that changed the entire evening.
"Marcus, someone may have attempted to use your property information to support a fraudulent transaction."
I looked toward the hallway.
Victor's guest room was upstairs.
His boxes were still there.
And suddenly I remembered something.
The broken box in the garage.
The folder Victor had snatched from me.
I had noticed a name on one of the documents.
It wasn't Claire's.
It wasn't Dad's.
It was my late mother's.
May you like
Angela Williams.
And my mother had been dead for nine years.
