My daughter-in-law looked directly at me and said, “My whole family is coming here for Christmas. It’s only about twenty-five people.”
CHAPTER 2 — THE EMAIL THAT CHANGED EVERYTHING
The floorboard creaked again.
I closed the laptop halfway.
"Mom?"
Derek stood in the hallway, rubbing his eyes.
"I thought you were asleep."
"I was."
He noticed the blue folder on the table.
"What's all that?"
"Paperwork."
He gave a tired nod.
"You've always kept paperwork."
"Your father taught me never to throw away anything important."
For a second, the mention of his father softened his expression.
"I miss him."
"So do I."
Silence settled between us.
The refrigerator hummed quietly.
Outside, snowflakes drifted beneath the porch light.
Then Derek looked at the folder again.
"Is something wrong?"
I studied my son's face.
He looked exhausted.
Not dishonest.
Just... overwhelmed.
I decided to ask one simple question.
"How much was the apartment deposit?"
He answered immediately.
"Thirty thousand."
I nodded slowly.
"And how much did you personally transfer?"
He frowned.
"Twenty-five."
I opened the folder.
"That's strange."
"Why?"
"Because according to your bank statement..."
"...you transferred sixty thousand dollars."
The color drained from his face.
"What?"
I slid the printed statement across the table.
He stared at it.
His hands began to shake.
"No."
He whispered.
"That can't be right."
"It came directly from your bank."
He looked at every transaction.
Twenty thousand.
Fifteen thousand.
Another twenty-five thousand.
Every transfer had gone to the same account.
Caldwell Property Holdings.
"Felicia said..."
He stopped.
"What did she say?"
"She said the landlord required several payments."
I quietly shook my head.
"There was only one deposit."
He looked completely confused.
"Then where did the rest go?"
"That's exactly what I've been trying to find out."
He pulled out his phone.
"I'm calling her."
"No."
He looked at me.
"Why not?"
"Because if someone is lying..."
"...you don't warn them before you know the truth."
He slowly lowered the phone.
"You think she'd lie to me?"
I didn't answer.
Instead, I opened another envelope.
Inside was a copy of the apartment lease.
I placed it beside the bank statement.
"Read page four."
He scanned the document.
His eyebrows pulled together.
"The deposit is..."
He stopped reading.
"Twelve thousand dollars."
"Yes."
"But..."
He grabbed the bank statement again.
"I transferred sixty."
Neither of us spoke.
Finally he whispered,
"Where did forty-eight thousand dollars go?"
The next morning, while Derek was at work, I made one phone call.
"Martin Real Estate."
A cheerful voice answered.
"Good morning."
"My name is Eleanor Parker."
"I have a question regarding a property consultation."
"Certainly."
"I'm trying to verify whether your office has been assisting Felicia Caldwell."
There was a brief pause.
"I'm sorry, ma'am."
"We can't discuss client information."
"I understand."
"But perhaps you can answer something else."
"Go ahead."
"Has anyone from your office recently requested information about my home?"
Another pause.
Longer this time.
"I'm sorry..."
"...who did you say you were?"
"The homeowner."
Silence.
The receptionist became noticeably nervous.
"One moment, please."
Two minutes later, a man answered.
"This is Martin Hughes."
His voice was careful.
"Mrs. Parker?"
"Yes."
"I believe we need to talk."
"I believe so too."
He sighed.
"I've been uncomfortable about this for weeks."
My stomach tightened.
"What do you mean?"
"I assumed you knew."
"Knew what?"
He hesitated.
"Mrs. Caldwell asked me to prepare a market valuation."
"That's public information."
"Yes."
"But then..."
His voice grew quieter.
"She asked whether transferring the property after your passing could be simplified if your son were added to the deed now."
I felt the room spin.
"And what did you tell her?"
"I explained that only the current owner could authorize any transfer."
"And then?"
"There was... disappointment."
I closed my eyes.
"So she wasn't asking for information."
"No."
"She was planning ahead."
That afternoon, I drove to the county recorder's office.
The clerk searched the records.
After several minutes she smiled politely.
"Mrs. Parker?"
"Yes?"
"Good news."
"What is it?"
"No one has altered your deed."
Relief washed over me.
"But..."
The clerk frowned.
"There was an inquiry filed last month requesting certified ownership records."
"Who requested them?"
She checked the screen.
"The request came through..."
She looked up.
"...Cassandra Brooks."
Felicia's sister.
Exactly the name I'd seen in those emails.
When I returned home, another surprise was waiting.
Three large delivery trucks were parked outside my house.
Men were unloading folding tables.
Commercial ovens.
Extra chairs.
Boxes labeled Holiday Catering Supplies.
I stepped out of my car.
One of the workers approached.
"Mrs. Parker?"
"Yes."
"We're here for tomorrow's Christmas event."
"I think you've made a mistake."
He checked his paperwork.
"No, ma'am."
"The order was confirmed."
"By whom?"
He looked down at the invoice.
"Mrs. Felicia Caldwell."
I frowned.
"I thought she said she couldn't afford catering."
"So did I."
The driver handed me the invoice for a signature.
I didn't sign it.
Instead...
I looked at the payment section.
And my heart nearly stopped.
Billing Address: Eleanor Parker.
Payment Status: Invoice to be collected after event.
Nearly $8,700.
Charged...
To me.
As I stood there staring at the paperwork, a black SUV slowly pulled into the driveway.
Felicia stepped out wearing oversized sunglasses and a confident smile.
She looked at the delivery trucks.
Then at me.
"Oh good," she said cheerfully.
"They found the house."
She had absolutely no idea...
...that I was holding the invoice proving she had just tried to saddle me with nearly nine thousand dollars in Christmas expenses without my knowledge.
May you like
And this time...
I wasn't going to stay quiet.
