Chapter 6
I took the flash drive straight to Patricia's office.
She copied its contents onto a secure computer and began reviewing the files.
There were emails between Denise and Arthur.
Messages from Mr. Collins.
Scanned property documents.
Photographs of my mother's house.
And a spreadsheet listing several properties, including the apartment building where Maya and I lived.
Beside our address was a note.
VACANT POSSESSION REQUIRED BEFORE FINAL TRANSFER.
Patricia read it twice.
"This appears to show that someone wanted the apartment vacated before completing a larger transaction. But we'll need the surrounding documents to understand the full arrangement."
"Can they force us out?"
"Not simply because a private investor wants the unit empty. We'll continue challenging any unlawful notice and verify every claim about your rent."
She printed the messages.
One exchange immediately caught my attention.
Arthur had written to Mr. Collins:
The daughter is easier to pressure. Make her understand that silence is in her mother's best interest.
Mr. Collins had replied:
She is frightened. She will cooperate.
I felt my stomach twist.
They had discussed my daughter as if she were a tool.
Not a human being.
Not a young woman trying to prepare for college.
A weakness they could exploit to control me.
I asked Patricia to preserve the messages for any formal complaint.
Then I called the police non-emergency number and explained the threats, unauthorized visits, and suspicious documents.
An officer took my report and advised me to preserve every original message.
I was told that investigators would determine whether the conduct warranted further action.
I left the office with a copy of my report number.
For the first time, I had something concrete to hold on to.
Not a promise that everything would be fine.
A record of what had happened.
When I returned home, Maya was waiting at the kitchen table.
She had spread her college brochures across the surface.
For a moment, I thought she was studying.
Then I noticed that she was staring at the same page without turning it.
I sat beside her.
"What's going on?"
She hesitated.
"I don't think I can go to college."
My heart broke.
"Why would you say that?"
"Because we might lose everything."
I took her hand.
"We are not losing everything."
"But what if they make us leave?"
"Then we will find somewhere safe while we fight to protect our rights. But we are not giving up your future because someone wants to frighten us."
She looked at me.
"What if they hurt you?"
I swallowed.
"I won't pretend I know exactly what will happen. But I am getting help, and I will not face this alone."
I showed her the report number and explained that Patricia was helping us.
Maya nodded slowly.
Then she asked whether Denise was involved.
I didn't hide the truth.
"She made decisions that helped them. She's trying to explain what happened, but she still has to take responsibility."
Maya looked down at her hands.
"I trusted her."
"So did I."
That evening, Denise sent Patricia the remaining emails from her account.
They revealed that Arthur had promised her money in exchange for cooperating with the property transfer.
He had also told her that my mother's original records would be destroyed once the transaction was complete.
Denise had not received the money she expected.
Instead, Arthur had used her signature to make the transaction appear legitimate.
She had become both a participant in the scheme and someone he could manipulate.
I felt no satisfaction in discovering that.
My sister had helped endanger my daughter.
Understanding why she had done it did not erase the harm.
The next morning, I received a formal notice from Mr. Collins.
It claimed that we had violated our rental agreement and demanded that we vacate the apartment within the stated period.
The notice listed alleged unpaid charges that I had never seen before.
I photographed it and sent it to Patricia immediately.
She responded within minutes.
Do not ignore it. We will review the legal requirements and challenge any unsupported claims.
I gathered my rent receipts, bank statements, and every email showing my payments.
For six hours, I organized records at the kitchen table.
Every payment was documented.
Every month was accounted for.
The supposed unpaid balance was false.
That afternoon, Patricia sent a formal request for the landlord's complete ledger and supporting records.
She also instructed Mr. Collins to communicate through the appropriate channels rather than entering our apartment without proper notice.
I thought that might finally make him stop.
I was wrong.
At seven that evening, someone knocked on our door.
Maya froze.
I checked the peephole.
Mr. Collins stood in the hallway.
I did not open the door.
"What do you want?"
"We need to discuss the notice."
"Send your explanation in writing."
"This is important."
"Then put it in writing."
He leaned closer to the door.
"You're making this much harder than it needs to be."
I took out my phone and began recording through the peephole.
"Please leave."
He looked toward the camera.
"You think those papers will save you?"
I said nothing.
He stepped closer.
"Arthur has more money than you can imagine. He can keep this going for years."
I felt fear rise in my chest.
But I kept my voice steady.
"Leave."
He smiled without warmth.
"Ask your sister what happened to the last person who challenged him."
Then he walked away.
I locked the deadbolt and checked it twice.
Maya was standing in the hallway, tears streaming down her face.
I pulled her into my arms.
We stayed that way until she stopped shaking.
Later, I sent the recording to Patricia and added it to my records.
Then I opened my email.
There was a new message from an unknown sender.
No subject line.
No explanation.
Just a photograph of the apartment building taken from across the street.
And a short sentence.
YOU SHOULD HAVE ACCEPTED THE OFFER.
I stared at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
This time, it contained a scanned page from my mother's original will.
Near the bottom was a paragraph I had never seen before.
It stated that my mother had placed certain property rights and supporting documents in a separate legal arrangement.
My name appeared beside the description.
Denise's name did not.
I read the paragraph again.
My mother had left me something.
May you like
Something Arthur wanted badly enough to frighten my daughter and threaten my home.
And whatever it was, the missing documents were the only thing standing between him and the truth.
