Chapter 3
I read Marcus's message three times.
Then I handed my phone to Jordan.
His expression changed immediately.
"Mom, call the police."
I took a breath.
"First, I'm calling Angela."
My attorney answered almost instantly.
When I read Marcus's messages aloud, she became serious.
"Save everything."
"I already took screenshots."
"Good. Don't argue with him."
"Angela, he says he owns my house."
"That doesn't make it true."
"But how could he even apply for a loan?"
"That's what we're going to determine."
She asked me to come to her office the following morning.
Then she recommended checking our credit reports, notifying the lender about possible fraud, and changing passwords Marcus might know.
I spent the rest of the afternoon doing exactly that.
Jordan sat beside me at the dining table.
For hours, we reviewed statements.
Changed passwords.
Downloaded records.
Called the bank.
By six that evening, we knew one thing.
Someone had used my personal information to initiate a home-equity loan application.
The lender hadn't released the money.
But the paperwork contained an electronic signature that appeared to be mine.
It wasn't.
I stared at the screen.
"Marcus," I whispered.
Jordan looked at me.
"Mom?"
"He had access to my documents when I was recovering from surgery."
My son frowned.
"What surgery?"
"My gallbladder surgery last year."
"I remember."
"Marcus handled our mail for nearly a month."
Jordan's jaw tightened.
"He told me not to bother you."
I closed my eyes.
There it was again.
Another secret.
Another moment when Marcus had used concern for my health to control information.
I leaned back.
"Jordan, I need you to tell me something."
He looked nervous.
"What?"
"Did Marcus ever ask you to sign anything?"
He hesitated.
Then nodded.
My heart dropped.
"What did you sign?"
"He said it was paperwork confirming I wasn't financially dependent on you."
I stared at him.
"When?"
"About two months ago."
"Where?"
"In his office."
I felt sick.
"Did he give you a copy?"
"No."
"What did it say?"
Jordan rubbed his forehead.
"I didn't read all of it."
I tried to keep my voice calm.
"Why not?"
"He said it was routine."
I nodded slowly.
My son looked ashamed.
"Mom, I know I should've read it."
I took his hand.
"Marcus was an adult you were supposed to trust. We can deal with the paperwork without blaming you."
Jordan swallowed.
"What if I helped him steal the house?"
"You didn't."
"But what if—"
"Jordan, listen to me. We haven't established what that document was. Let Angela examine it."
He nodded.
That night, I barely slept.
At three in the morning, I heard a car outside.
I got out of bed and looked through the curtains.
A black SUV was parked across the street.
The engine was running.
I couldn't see the driver.
Then the headlights switched off.
My heart started racing.
I called Jordan.
He answered immediately.
"Mom?"
"Are you awake?"
"Yeah."
"Lock your bedroom door."
His voice changed.
"Why?"
"There's a car outside."
He came into my room moments later.
We stood together at the window.
The SUV remained parked.
Then my phone rang.
Marcus.
I declined it.
He called again.
Then again.
Finally, a text appeared.
Open the door, Nia. We need to talk.
My stomach turned.
Another message followed.
Don't make me come in.
Jordan reached for his phone.
"I'm calling the police."
I nodded.
Within minutes, a patrol car arrived.
The SUV drove away before the officers could approach.
But I showed them the messages.
They took a report and advised us about protective measures.
After they left, Jordan sat beside me on the sofa.
"Mom, he wouldn't really hurt us, would he?"
I looked at my son.
I wanted to say no.
I wanted to promise that Marcus was simply angry.
But I couldn't honestly make that promise.
"I don't know what he's capable of right now," I said. "That's why we're getting help."
Jordan nodded.
Then he whispered:
"I should've told you about the money sooner."
I turned toward him.
"Baby, stop blaming yourself."
He looked down.
"If I'd told you, maybe none of this would've happened."
I wrapped my arms around him.
"Marcus made his own choices."
We sat together until dawn.
The following morning, Angela examined the documents we'd collected.
Her expression became more serious with every page.
Finally, she looked up.
"Nia, I believe someone has been using your financial information without authorization."
My throat tightened.
"Can we stop the loan?"
"We've already submitted a fraud notice to the lender. The application is on hold."
I exhaled.
Angela continued.
"We also need to investigate the transfers from Jordan's education account."
She pointed at the unfamiliar company name.
"Hawthorne Strategic Partners."
I leaned forward.
"What is it?"
"A private business consulting firm."
"Who owns it?"
Angela opened a document.
"The registered manager is a woman named Celeste Morgan."
I frowned.
"I've never heard of her."
Angela looked at me carefully.
"She appears to have a longstanding business relationship with Marcus."
"How longstanding?"
"At least seven years."
My stomach tightened.
Marcus and I had been married for three.
"What kind of relationship?"
Angela hesitated.
"We're still reviewing public records."
Then she slid a photograph across the desk.
It showed Marcus standing beside a beautiful woman in a dark green dress.
They were smiling outside a restaurant.
Marcus's hand rested against her waist.
I stared.
The photograph was dated six months earlier.
I felt something break inside me.
"Is that Celeste?"
Angela nodded.
Jordan leaned forward.
Then his face changed.
"Mom."
I looked at him.
"What?"
He pointed at the photograph.
"I've seen that woman before."
My heart began pounding.
"Where?"
Jordan swallowed.
"At Marcus's office."
"When?"
"The day he made me sign those papers."
I stared at him.
May you like
He looked frightened.
"Mom, she was the one who told him the plan would work."
