Chapter 4
When I called Marcus, he answered on the first ring.
"Mom?"
"Did you apply for a loan against my house?"
The silence was immediate.
So complete that I thought the call had disconnected.
Then he whispered, "What?"
I repeated the question.
This time, my voice shook.
"Did you apply for a one-hundred-and-sixty-thousand-dollar loan using my property?"
"Mom, no."
"Your phone number is on the application."
He inhaled sharply.
"That doesn't mean I submitted it."
"Then how did your number get there?"
"I don't know."
I closed my eyes.
"Marcus, please don't lie to me."
His voice broke.
"I'm not lying."
I wanted to believe him.
But I had believed him before.
I'd believed him when he said the rent assistance was temporary.
I'd believed him when he promised to pay back money he'd borrowed.
I'd believed him when he said Vanessa was simply adjusting to married life.
And every time, I had ignored the uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.
Now I couldn't afford to ignore anything.
"Come to Denise's office tomorrow morning," I said.
"Mom..."
"Bring any messages, paperwork, or records you have concerning the house."
"Okay."
"And Marcus?"
"Yes?"
"Don't tell Vanessa what we've discussed until you've received legal advice."
He was quiet.
Then he whispered, "I understand."
The next morning, he arrived twenty minutes early.
I was sitting beside Lorraine in Denise's conference room.
When Marcus entered, I barely recognized him.
His eyes were red.
His sweater was wrinkled.
He looked like a man who hadn't slept.
"Mom."
I nodded.
"Sit down."
He lowered himself into a chair.
Denise placed the application on the table.
"Marcus, I need to ask you several questions."
He nodded.
She pointed to the phone number.
"Is this yours?"
"Yes."
"Did you provide it for this application?"
"No."
"Have you ever discussed using your mother's home as collateral for a loan?"
His face changed.
He looked down.
I felt my heart sink.
"Marcus."
He swallowed.
"Vanessa brought it up."
I stared at him.
"When?"
"A few weeks ago."
"What did you say?"
He rubbed his hands together.
"I told her we couldn't do anything without your permission."
Denise leaned forward.
"Did she ask you for information about the property?"
He nodded.
"She wanted to know whether the mortgage was paid off."
I felt sick.
"Did you tell her?"
He looked at me.
"Mom, I thought she was just curious."
I shook my head.
"Marcus..."
He began crying.
"I'm sorry."
I wanted to hold him.
My first instinct was still to comfort my son.
But I forced myself to remain seated.
Denise continued.
"Did you share any documents?"
Marcus wiped his face.
"She asked for a copy of the property tax statement."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
"She said it was for our financial planning."
Denise made a note.
"Did you give it to her?"
"Yes."
I closed my eyes.
Lorraine placed a hand over mine.
Denise continued asking questions.
Marcus explained that Vanessa had been planning a business expansion.
She claimed to have found an opportunity to purchase several rental properties.
She said a large investment would change their lives.
At first, Marcus believed her.
Then she began asking about my money.
My retirement accounts.
My house.
My estate plan.
I stared at him.
"And you didn't tell me?"
He lowered his head.
"I thought she'd stop asking."
"Marcus, she arrived at my house with suitcases!"
He flinched.
"I know."
"She told me you promised her my home!"
He covered his face.
"I know."
My voice broke.
"Why didn't you protect me?"
He started crying harder.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I asked the question that had been burning inside me.
"Did you know about the loan application?"
He looked up.
"No."
His face was wet with tears.
"I swear, Mom. I didn't."
Denise studied him.
Then she pushed another document forward.
"This is the electronic signature record."
Marcus leaned closer.
His expression changed.
"What?"
"Do you recognize the email address?"
He stared.
Then whispered, "That's Vanessa's business email."
The room went silent.
I looked at Denise.
She nodded.
"The records raise serious questions. We still need the lender and investigators to authenticate the details."
Marcus shook his head.
"She told me she hadn't submitted anything."
I stared at him.
"She discussed submitting something?"
He looked miserable.
"She said it was just a preliminary inquiry."
I felt another wave of disappointment.
Marcus had known more than he'd admitted.
Perhaps he hadn't signed the documents.
Perhaps he hadn't stolen the money.
But he'd allowed Vanessa to circle my home like it was already hers.
I stood.
"I need some air."
Lorraine rose beside me.
We walked into the hallway.
I leaned against the wall.
My chest felt heavy.
"Evie," she whispered.
I covered my face.
"I raised him better than this."
Lorraine hugged me.
"You raised a son, not a puppet. He's responsible for his choices."
I began crying.
"I don't know how to forgive him."
"You don't have to decide that today."
I wiped my cheeks.
"What if I've lost him?"
Lorraine squeezed my hand.
"Then let him decide whether he's willing to do the work to find his way back."
We returned to the conference room.
Marcus looked up immediately.
"Mom?"
I sat down.
"Listen carefully."
He straightened.
"I love you."
His eyes filled.
"But I will not give you control of my home, my savings, or my decisions."
He nodded.
"I understand."
"No, Marcus. I need you to prove that you understand."
"I will."
I looked at Denise.
"Tell him what happens next."
She explained that the suspicious transactions and loan application would be reported and investigated.
The lender had stopped processing the application.
The bank had placed additional safeguards on my accounts.
And my property records would be monitored for unauthorized activity.
Marcus listened silently.
Then he spoke.
"I'll cooperate with everything."
I studied him.
"Even if it means telling the truth about Vanessa?"
He closed his eyes.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
For the first time that morning, I felt a tiny sense of relief.
Then Marcus reached into his pocket.
He removed his phone.
"There's something else."
I looked at him.
"What?"
He opened a message thread.
"I found this last night."
He placed the phone on the table.
The message was from Vanessa.
It had been sent to someone named Brandon.
And the first line made my blood run cold.
"Once Marcus gets his mother's signature, the property is ours to use."
I stared at the screen.
Then read the next sentence.
May you like
"If the old woman refuses, we'll use the paperwork we already have."
And suddenly I understood why Vanessa had been so desperate to get inside my house.
