Chapter 7: Veronica's Move
Wednesday morning, Carmen called Alvin's cell at seven-fifteen.
"Something happened," she said.
Her voice was tight and careful, the way it got when she was trying not to cry in front of someone.
"Veronica came to the shed last night after Derek went to bed.
She brought a folder."
Alvin sat up straight.
"What kind of folder?"
"Papers.
She said she wanted to clear things up before things got out of hand.
She said if I signed, Derek would agree to give us back the master bedroom and a monthly allowance.
She said it was the best offer we were going to get."
"Mom.
Did you sign anything?"
"No." A pause.
"But she took my hand, Alvin.
She sat down next to me on the cot and she held my hand and she said—" Carmen's voice broke slightly.
"She said that you were going to make things very difficult for everyone and that at the end of it, we'd still be in the same place, only angrier and more tired.
She said she was trying to protect us."
Alvin pressed his palm flat against the hotel desk.
"She's trying to get you to settle before the hearing."
"I know that now.
I didn't know it last night." Carmen was quiet for a moment.
"She's very good at it, Alvin.
She sounds like she means it."
"I know she does."
"I kept thinking — what if she's right?
What if we fight and lose everything anyway?
What if the judge sides with Derek and we end up with nothing at all?"
"Mom.
Listen to me."
"I'm listening."
"We have the original deed.
We have the forged transfer.
We have Dad's notes.
We have the bank records.
We have eight months of wire interceptions." Alvin kept his voice steady.
"Inez has filed.
The hearing is tomorrow morning.
Veronica came to that shed because Derek is scared."
Carmen was quiet.
"Are you scared?" Alvin asked.
"Yes."
"That's all right.
So is he." Alvin stood up.
"Don't sign anything.
Don't let anyone into the shed.
If Veronica comes back, tell her you need to speak with me first."
"What if Derek comes himself?"
"Same answer."
Another silence.
Then: "Your father wants to know if you're eating."
Alvin almost laughed.
"Tell him yes."
"He says to make sure it's a real meal, not just coffee."
"Tell him I'll eat a real meal after Thursday."
He ended the call and stood at the window.
The street below was ordinary — a school bus, a woman unlocking a flower shop, a man reading something on his phone outside a café.
Nobody looking up.
Nobody watching the hotel.
His own phone buzzed.
A number he didn't recognize.
He answered.
"Mr.
Serrano." A man's voice.
Smooth, practiced.
"My name is Phillip Garrett.
I represent Derek Serrano and SGS Property Holdings.
I'd like to speak with you before tomorrow's hearing, if you're open to it."
"I'm listening."
"My client is prepared to offer a settlement.
Full restoration of residential access for your parents, a monthly allowance of twenty-five hundred dollars, and a release of any claims against the LLC structure."
"In exchange for what?"
"Withdrawal of the deed challenge and a signed agreement that no further legal action will be taken."
Alvin watched a pigeon land on the windowsill and then immediately leave.
"Mr.
Garrett, your client intercepted my parents' income for eight months, coerced my mother into signing documents she didn't understand, and had two elderly people sleeping in a storage shed.
And his offer is twenty-five hundred dollars a month and a bedroom."
A careful pause.
"Mr.
Serrano, litigation is expensive and uncertain.
A judge may not—"
"We'll see each other tomorrow," Alvin said.
"Bring your client."
He ended the call.
His phone buzzed again immediately.
This time it was Inez.
"Garrett called you, didn't he," she said.
It wasn't a question.
"Two minutes ago."
"He called me first.
I told him the same thing you did." She sounded almost satisfied.
"Alvin, I need you to know something before tomorrow.
I found one more document in the property records.
Derek filed a second deed amendment three weeks ago — a quiet title action.
If it had gone through, it would have extinguished your parents' right to even contest the transfer."
Alvin's hand tightened on the phone.
"It didn't go through," Inez said.
"The clerk flagged it for a procedural error.
But he tried." A pause.
"He really tried to bury them."
"I know," Alvin said.
Outside, the flower shop woman had arranged a small display of yellow roses in the window.
May you like
"I'll see you at eight tomorrow," Alvin said.
"Don't be late."
