Chapter 8
My father didn't shout when I told him about the guarantee.
He didn't curse.
He didn't slam his fist against the table.
He simply sat down.
Then he asked,
"How much?"
I swallowed.
"Five hundred thousand dollars."
For several seconds, he didn't move.
Then he closed his eyes.
My parents had spent thirty-eight years paying off their home.
The mortgage was almost gone.
They had planned to retire comfortably.
Travel.
Spend time with family.
Live quietly.
Now my mother had apparently signed a financial agreement that could put everything at risk.
Dad opened his eyes.
"Did Vivienne tell you what she signed?"
I shook my head.
"Sienna did."
He rubbed his face.
Then reached for his phone.
"I'm calling Charles."
Within an hour, we were sitting in the attorney's office.
Charles reviewed the available documents.
He explained that a guarantee could create serious obligations depending on its terms and enforceability.
But he also emphasized that signing a document didn't automatically mean someone could seize a home.
The underlying transaction had to be examined.
So did the circumstances under which my mother signed.
I watched my father listen.
He looked exhausted.
But he remained calm.
Finally, he said,
"I want the truth."
Charles nodded.
"Then we need Vivienne's complete cooperation."
My father looked at me.
"Will you come with me?"
I hesitated.
I didn't want to see my mother.
Not yet.
But this affected him too.
May you like
So I nodded.
That evening
