For the first time, his composure had completely collapsed.
The officer unfolded the paper.
There was only one sentence written on it.
The original agreement is not in the apartment.
My mother stared at Richard.
“What agreement?”
He shook his head.
“Arthur was an old man. He wrote all kinds of things.”
But his eyes had gone to the mantel clock.
Officer Harris noticed.
“Is there something else we should know about that clock?”
“No,” my father said.
The officer walked over to it anyway.
Behind the clock face, he found the empty envelope my father had opened earlier.
He photographed the note and the surrounding area.
Then he asked whether anyone had removed anything from the apartment.
My father denied it.
I could see him calculating his next move.
He had been caught entering my home, but he was still trying to keep something hidden.
And that meant the evidence he feared was more important than the apartment itself.
At 12:03, Officer Harris called me back.
“Miss Bennett, we have enough information to document the incident and refer the suspected forgery for further investigation. I recommend you speak with an attorney about securing the property and protecting your ownership records.”
“Can I come home?”
“You can return, but I strongly advise against confronting your family alone. We’ll explain the situation to everyone present.”
I thanked him.
Before I could end the call, I heard my mother speak.
“Richard, tell them about the loan.”
My father turned toward her.
“Be quiet.”
“The loan is why Arthur changed the agreement. They deserve to know.”
My heart began pounding.
Officer Harris looked at them.
“What loan?”
My mother pressed both hands against her mouth.
Chloe slowly turned toward our father.
“What is she talking about?”
Richard’s face hardened.
“There was no loan.”
My mother began crying again, but this time the tears looked different.
They weren’t meant to persuade anyone.
They looked like the tears of a person who had finally realized that keeping a secret had become more dangerous than revealing it.
“Arthur lent Richard money,” she whispered. “A great deal of money. And he made him sign something.”
My father grabbed his coat.
“I’m leaving.”
“Sir, please remain here,” Officer Harris said.
But Richard was already moving toward the door.
He stopped only when another officer stepped into the hallway.
Then he turned toward the room, looked directly at the camera above the thermostat, and spoke slowly.
“Clara, if you’re watching this, you need to understand something.”
He paused.
“Your grandfather didn’t leave you that apartment because he loved you more.”
My stomach tightened.
Richard reached into his jacket and removed a folded sheet of paper.
“He left it to you because he knew exactly what I had done.”
