Because the letter contained another detail.
It stated that the law firm had been unable to proceed without additional documentation and direct confirmation from the registered owner.
That meant Ethan had attempted something.
And someone had stopped him.
I immediately called the number.
A woman answered after three rings.
“Good evening, Whitmore Legal Services. How may I help you?”
“My name is Claire Bennett. I received a letter regarding a property inquiry at my address. I need to speak with whoever handled the request.”
“Certainly. May I have the reference number?”
I read it aloud.
There was a pause.
“Mrs. Bennett, I can see the file. However, because this matter involves property documentation, I’ll need to verify your identity before discussing details.”
I provided the necessary information.
A few moments later, the woman returned.
“Thank you. I can confirm that a Mr. Ethan Bennett contacted our office approximately six weeks ago.”
“What did he ask you to do?”
“He requested advice concerning refinancing and a possible change to the property’s ownership structure.”
“Did he tell you he owned the property?”
Another pause.
“He indicated that he and his wife jointly occupied the residence and that he was seeking to arrange a financial transaction.”
“Did he tell you my name was on the deed?”
“Yes. Our records showed that you were the registered owner.”
I gripped the counter.
“Did he attempt to transfer the property without my permission?”
“I can’t make a definitive statement about his intentions. However, our office did not receive the required authorization from you, and no transfer was completed through us.”
“Did he submit any documents with my signature?”
The woman hesitated.
“There was a document attached to his initial inquiry that appeared to contain your signature. However, it was not sufficient for us to proceed.”
My mouth went dry.
“What do you mean, appeared to contain my signature?”
“I would recommend that you arrange an in-person appointment to review the file. We can provide information concerning the documents submitted and explain the appropriate next steps.”
“Can you tell me whether that document was genuine?”
“I’m afraid I cannot authenticate it over the phone.”
I closed my eyes.
“Thank you. I’ll come in tomorrow.”
When I ended the call, Noah was staring at me.
“Did he forge your signature?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“But he tried to do something with the house.”
“Yes.”
Noah looked toward the dining room.
The plates were still on the table.
The chicken Diane had fought over remained untouched.
It seemed ridiculous that such an ordinary dinner could have led us here.
Then my phone rang.
It was Ethan.
I answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“Driving.”
“Turn around.”
“What?”
“Come home. We need to talk.”
He sighed.
“Claire, I’m not doing this tonight. Mom is upset, and I have to make sure she’s okay.”
“Did you contact Whitmore Legal Services six weeks ago?”
Silence.
It lasted only a second.
But it was enough.
“Where did you get that name?” he asked.
“That’s not an answer.”
“Claire, listen to me.”
“Did you contact them about transferring my house?”
“It’s not what you think.”
I laughed.
It was a short, bitter sound.
“That’s what people say when they know exactly what it looks like.”
“Don’t start accusing me of things you don’t understand.”
“Then explain them.”
“It’s complicated.”
“Try me.”
He lowered his voice.
“Mom and I were discussing some financial arrangements. That’s all.”
“Why were you using my property?”
“Because we’re married!”
“And?”
“And we’re supposed to share things!”
I looked at the deed lying on the counter.
“Interesting. You seem to remember that when you want to use my money.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“Did you forge my signature?”
“Absolutely not.”
“Then why did the law office tell me there was a document with a signature that appeared to be mine?”
He said nothing.
“Ethan?”
“I said it wasn’t a forgery.”
“Then whose signature was it?”
“Claire, you’re making this into something much bigger than it is.”
“Someone sent Noah a message telling him to ask you what you did with my house. So I am going to ask you one more time. What did you do?”
His breathing changed.
Then he said something that made my entire body go cold.
“Ask your father.”
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
Noah had heard enough to understand that something terrible had just happened.
“Why would he say Dad?”
I looked at my brother.
“Because I think this goes back further than tonight.”
I called my father.
He answered after several rings.
“Claire? Is everything okay?”
“Dad, I need you to answer something honestly.”
“What happened?”
“Have you spoken to Ethan about my townhouse?”
Silence.
Not confusion.
Not surprise.
Silence.
My father knew something.
“Dad?”
He exhaled heavily.
“Claire, I was hoping he would tell you himself.”
