Chapter 7
I stared at David.
For a moment, I thought I'd misunderstood.
"Felicia bought a house?"
He nodded slowly.
"She was trying to."
I looked at the phone.
Angela was still speaking.
"The records indicate a payment associated with a property purchase. We're verifying the ownership and source of funds."
My stomach turned.
I sank into a chair.
A house.
All those months, Felicia had told me I was too expensive to keep.
She'd complained about groceries.
Electricity.
Water.
The small space I occupied upstairs.
And while I worried about whether I could afford another month under my son's roof, she'd been preparing to buy property with money taken from my account.
I covered my mouth.
Lorraine sat beside me.
"Oh, Gloria."
David ended the call after arranging another meeting.
Then he stood near the window.
His fists were clenched.
For several seconds, he didn't speak.
Finally, he whispered, "She told me we couldn't afford a vacation."
I looked up.
"What?"
He laughed bitterly.
"She said we needed to save every dollar."
His voice cracked.
"She made me feel guilty for buying Mom a birthday gift."
I stared at him.
He turned.
"And all this time..."
He couldn't finish.
I reached for his hand.
He sat beside me.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I said something that surprised us both.
"I'm not going to let her make me ashamed anymore."
David looked at me.
I straightened.
"I didn't steal anything."
He nodded.
"I didn't lie."
"No."
"I didn't threaten anyone."
His eyes filled.
"No, Mom."
I took a breath.
"Then I have nothing to be ashamed of."
Lorraine smiled through her tears.
"That's my sister."
For the first time in weeks, I felt something stronger than fear.
Determination.
The next few days were filled with meetings.
Angela worked with the bank and the appropriate authorities.
David's divorce attorney began reviewing the financial consequences of Felicia's actions.
Raymond provided documents connected to Silver Oak.
And I learned that the proposed house purchase had not been completed.
That gave me a small sense of relief.
But the money still needed to be recovered.
One afternoon, Angela called us into her office.
She had several folders spread across the table.
"Mrs. Mitchell, we have encouraging news."
My heart began pounding.
"What?"
"The bank has concluded part of its investigation into the unauthorized transfer."
I leaned forward.
"And?"
"Based on its findings, the financial institution is restoring the twelve thousand dollars to your account while other recovery issues are handled."
I covered my mouth.
David squeezed my hand.
I started crying.
Not because twelve thousand dollars would make me rich.
But because it represented years of my life.
Hours of work.
Careful budgeting.
Promises Robert and I had made to each other.
I looked at Angela.
"All of it?"
She nodded.
"The disputed transfer amount."
I closed my eyes.
"Thank God."
Angela smiled.
"There's more."
I opened my eyes.
"The attempted retirement transfer has been permanently blocked. The account has additional security protections."
I exhaled.
Lorraine began crying too.
David leaned back in his chair.
For the first time in days, he smiled.
But Angela wasn't finished.
"The cash payments to Felicia are being addressed through the financial claims connected to the case. We can't promise exactly when or how that portion will be resolved."
I nodded.
"I understand."
She continued.
"And investigators are reviewing whether criminal charges are appropriate in connection with the financial documents."
I swallowed.
"Will Felicia go to jail?"
Angela answered carefully.
"That depends on the evidence, the charges, and the court process."
I nodded.
I didn't want revenge.
I wanted the truth.
And I wanted to know that someone couldn't simply take advantage of an older person and walk away.
That evening, David suggested we celebrate.
I laughed.
"Celebrate what?"
He smiled.
"Your money being protected."
I shook my head.
"That's not something to celebrate with an expensive dinner."
He grinned.
"Then how about pizza?"
I laughed.
"Now you're talking."
We ordered two large pizzas.
Lorraine made salad.
And we ate together at the dining table.
The same table where I'd once placed three bundles of cash.
For a moment, I looked toward the spot where David had set down his wedding ring.
The ring was gone now.
He'd placed it in a small box in his bedroom.
I knew the divorce proceedings were painful.
But I could also see that my son was beginning to heal.
He smiled more.
He slept better.
And he stopped apologizing every time he looked at me.
That mattered.
Later that night, David asked whether I'd like to help him reorganize the guest bedroom.
I frowned.
"Why?"
He smiled.
"Because it's your room."
I stared at him.
"It already is."
He nodded.
"But I want it to feel like yours."
I looked down.
For months, Felicia had told me not to move furniture.
Not to hang pictures.
Not to leave books in the living room.
She said I was only staying temporarily.
Now David was asking me to make the room my own.
My eyes filled.
"Could I put Robert's photograph on the dresser?"
His expression softened.
"Of course."
"And my sewing machine?"
"Absolutely."
I smiled.
"And maybe some yellow curtains?"
He laughed.
"Mom, you can paint the whole room yellow if you want."
I began crying.
He hugged me.
"What's wrong?"
I laughed through my tears.
"Nothing."
Then I whispered, "I think I'm finally starting to feel at home."
His arms tightened around me.
"You are home."
The next morning, Lorraine and I went shopping for curtains.
We laughed over fabric patterns.
Argued about colors.
And bought a small vase for my bedside table.
For a few hours, I felt like my old self.
But when we returned home, David was waiting in the living room.
His expression was serious.
I stopped smiling.
"What happened?"
He held up an envelope.
"Felicia's attorney sent something."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
David looked down.
Then back at me.
"She's claiming you agreed to give her the money as a gift."
I stared at him.
"A gift?"
He nodded.
"And she's produced a signed statement."
My heart began racing.
"Signed by whom?"
His face was pale.
"By you."
I covered my mouth.
Then I whispered, "David, I never gave her that money."
He took my hand.
"I know, Mom."
But as he placed the document on the table, I recognized my signature at the bottom.
May you like
Or something that looked terrifyingly close to it.
And I realized Felicia still had one more lie she intended to use against me.
