Richard didn’t answer.
Harold leaned forward.
“Then perhaps you should explain why your client possesses a document claiming otherwise.”
The attorney’s voice became colder.
“Mr. Pike, I’m not going to discuss confidential matters over the phone.”
“Then come here.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
Dad smiled.
“It will be.”
Richard disconnected.
Nobody spoke.
I looked at Dad.
“Who is he?”
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“I met him once.”
“When?”
“About six months ago.”
“Why?”
Dad hesitated.
“He was introduced to me by Vanessa.”
Harold slowly closed the folder.
“Edward.”
“What?”
“You need to tell Natalie everything.”
Dad nodded.
“I know.”
He sat down.
Then he told me something I had never heard before.
Six months earlier, Vanessa had come to him with an idea.
She said she wanted to help him organize his estate.
She told him she was worried about what would happen if he became sick.
At the time, Dad had thought she was being responsible.
She brought Richard Bell to the house.
He presented himself as an estate attorney.
He prepared several documents.
Dad signed some papers.
But before signing anything important, Dad had asked Harold to review them.
Harold discovered problems.
“Some of the documents gave Vanessa authority over your father’s property,” Harold explained.
Dad nodded.
“So I refused to sign them.”
“What happened afterward?” I asked.
“Vanessa became angry.”
“How angry?”
Dad looked at me.
“She told me I was being stubborn.”
I felt a chill.
“Then what?”
“She said if I wouldn’t let her help me voluntarily, she’d find another way.”
I stared at him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Dad looked down.
“Because she was my daughter.”
His voice became quieter.
“And because I was ashamed.”
“Of what?”
“Of realizing I had raised someone who could look at me and see a house, a truck, and a bank account instead of her father.”
Nobody said anything.
Then Harold pointed toward the black folder.
“There’s something else.”
He removed a copy of an old document.
It was a medical power-of-attorney form.
But something was wrong.
The signature looked almost identical to Dad’s.
Almost.
I stared at it.
“This isn’t Dad’s signature.”
Dad nodded.
“No.”
Harold pointed to the date.
“That was the first forged document.”
I felt sick.
“So Vanessa has been forging his signature for months?”
“Apparently.”
“But why?”
Dad answered.
“Because she thought she could eventually prove I was no longer capable of managing my affairs.”
He looked at me.
“Once that happened, she believed she could take control.”
I remembered Vanessa’s phone call.
The confidence.
The certainty.
The way she had said everything belonged to her.
She hadn’t been guessing.
She had believed she had already won.
But there was still one question.
“Where did Grant fit into all this?”
Dad’s expression darkened.
“Grant knew.”
I stared at him.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“How?”
Dad reached for another document.
“This.”
It was an email.
Grant had sent it to Vanessa.
The subject line read:
After Dad Signs
I read it.
The message was short.
Once the transfer is complete, we’ll sell the house immediately. Keep Natalie away from everything until it’s done. She’ll fight if she finds out.
My hands began trembling.
“They planned this together.”
Harold nodded.
Dad looked away.
I could see the pain on his face.
“Your brother-in-law never loved this family.”
I looked at him.
“Why would you say that?”
“Because I finally understand.”
Dad stood.
“Vanessa loved what I could provide.”
He paused.
“Grant loved what Vanessa could provide.”
The room became silent.
“And somewhere along the way,” Dad said, “they convinced each other that I was already dead.”
We returned to the house with the sheriff.
Vanessa and Grant were sitting in the living room.
The moment Vanessa saw Dad walk through the door, she began crying.
“Dad!”
She stood and rushed toward him.
Dad raised his hand.
She stopped.
“Don’t.”
The single word froze her.
Grant stood behind her.
He looked terrified.
The sheriff remained near the door.
Harold entered behind us.
Vanessa stared at him.
Then at me.
Then at Dad.
“Dad, I can explain.”
“No.”
“Please.”
“You can explain to the sheriff.”
Her face went white.
“What?”
Dad walked into the room.
“I know about the money.”
Vanessa’s eyes widened.
“I know about Richard Bell.”
She swallowed.
“I know about the forged documents.”
Grant stepped backward.
Dad looked directly at him.
“And I know you were planning to sell the house.”
Grant shook his head.
“That’s not true.”
Dad smiled sadly.
“I have your email.”
Grant stopped breathing for a moment.
Vanessa looked at him.
“You said there were no emails.”
Grant whispered, “I thought I deleted them.”
Harold sighed.
“You don’t understand computers as well as you think.”
The sheriff stepped forward.
“Mr. Cole, I’m going to ask both of you to remain here while we sort through the documents.”
Vanessa began crying.
“Dad, please.”
Dad looked at her.
For a moment, I thought he might forgive her.
After all, she was his daughter.
But then he said something I will never forget.
“I spent years wondering why you didn’t love me.”
Vanessa covered her mouth.
“I was wrong.”
Dad’s voice broke.
“You loved me.”
He paused.
“You just loved what you thought I would leave behind.”
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.”
Dad continued.
“And that is much harder to forgive.”
Grant suddenly exploded.
“This is ridiculous!”
Everyone turned toward him.
“You can’t destroy our lives because of some misunderstanding!”
Dad stared at him.
“Your lives?”
Grant pointed at the house.
“You were going to leave all of this to Natalie anyway!”
Dad nodded.
“Yes.”
Grant laughed bitterly.
“Exactly!”
Then he realized what he’d admitted.
The sheriff’s eyes narrowed.
Grant stopped talking.
Dad shook his head.
“You didn’t even understand what you were doing.”
Grant’s face changed.
“What?”
Dad walked toward him.
“You thought the house was worth everything.”
He pointed toward the front door.
“That house is worth money.”
Then he pointed toward his chest.
“But this?”
He tapped his heart.
“You could have had your father.”
Grant said nothing.
“You could have had me for another twenty years.”
