Diane turned toward him again.
“Ethan!”
He finally spoke.
“Mom, stop.”
“No! I’m not going to let her make me look like some criminal.”
I looked at her.
“Then tell me why your company needed three hundred and twenty thousand dollars.”
Diane’s face hardened.
“Because I have obligations.”
“What obligations?”
“Business obligations.”
“Which business?”
She didn’t answer.
Then Ethan stepped forward.
“Claire, we need to handle this privately.”
I held up the email.
“Did you write this?”
He looked at the page.
His jaw tightened.
“Where did you get that?”
“From the lender.”
“It’s an internal email.”
“It’s your email.”
He said nothing.
I read the final sentence aloud.
“Claire doesn’t need to know the full structure until everything is finalized. She trusts me.”
Diane looked at him.
Then at me.
“You were going to keep her in the dark?”
Ethan turned toward his mother.
“Not now.”
But Diane had already understood.
Her expression shifted from anger to disbelief.
“You told me she knew.”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“What?”
“You told me she had agreed to the arrangement!”
I looked at him.
He had told his mother I agreed.
He had told the lender I was authorizing the transaction.
He had told everyone what they needed to hear.
Except me.
I laughed quietly.
“Interesting.”
Ethan stepped closer.
“Claire, please. We can fix this.”
“You had four years to tell me the truth.”
“I was trying to protect everyone.”
“From what?”
“From losing everything!”
I stared at him.
“Who was going to lose everything?”
He looked at Diane.
Then back at me.
And finally, he said:
“My mother.”
Diane began crying.
Not quietly.
Not gracefully.
She covered her face and started sobbing.
I didn’t feel sympathy.
Not yet.
“Why?” I asked.
Ethan rubbed his face.
“Mom had a business partnership that collapsed. She borrowed money to keep things running. Then the debt became too much.”
“How much?”
“More than she could manage.”
“How much, Ethan?”
He looked down.
“Two hundred and forty thousand dollars.”
I stared at him.
“And you thought you could solve that by risking my house?”
“I thought the investment would work.”
“What investment?”
He hesitated.
“Richard had found a commercial property. It was undervalued. We could buy it, renovate it, and sell it.”
“Using my house as security.”
“Yes.”
“Who was supposed to own the property?”
“DB Lifestyle Holdings.”
“Your mother’s company.”
He nodded.
“And who was supposed to receive the profits?”
He didn’t answer.
I stepped closer.
“Ethan, who?”
He finally looked at me.
“Mom and Richard.”
“And you?”
“I would have received a management fee.”
I nodded slowly.
“So you were willing to put my home at risk so your mother and uncle could buy a commercial property, while you collected a fee.”
“That’s not how I wanted it to sound.”
“It’s exactly how it sounds.”
Diane suddenly spoke.
“You’re acting like we were trying to steal from you!”
I turned toward her.
“Were you?”
“No!”
“Then why did you lie?”
She looked at Ethan.
He looked away.
I understood something in that moment.
Diane hadn’t simply been living in my home because she needed somewhere to stay.
She had been living there because it gave her access.
Access to the address.
Access to the household documents.
Access to the person her son believed would never question him.
I looked at her.
“You called Noah a freeloader tonight.”
She blinked.
“What?”
“You slapped him because he reached for a piece of chicken.”
“He was being disrespectful!”
“He was hungry.”
“He should have asked!”
“He was a guest in my home.”
Diane lifted her chin.
“Ethan’s home.”
I smiled sadly.
“No, Diane. It was never Ethan’s home.”
Then I looked at my husband.
“And it will never be yours either.”
That evening, Rebecca called.
She had received additional information from the lender and the property registry.
“Claire, the updated search shows that no completed mortgage or transfer has been registered against the townhouse.”
I closed my eyes.
Relief washed through me.
“Thank goodness.”
“However, there are records of inquiries and an attempted application. I recommend that we formally notify the relevant parties that you dispute the authorization document.”
“Can we stop any further attempts?”
“We can take steps to protect your interests and request that the relevant records be flagged. I’ll prepare the necessary correspondence.”
“What about Ethan?”
“That is a separate matter. You may wish to speak with a family-law attorney about your marital and financial position.”
I looked toward the living room.
Ethan was sitting on the sofa.
He had refused to leave.
Diane had gone home after another argument.
“Rebecca, can I ask something?”
“Yes.”
“Does my husband have any right to stay here?”
“That depends on your local property and family-law circumstances. Don’t take unilateral steps without legal advice. We can discuss lawful options.”
