Chapter 4: What My Lawyer Found
"Your name is on the deed," he said.
I sat up straighter in the bed.
"Say that again."
"When Lucas purchased the property in 2013, the mortgage was structured as a co-ownership.
You contributed sixty-two thousand dollars — more than thirty percent of the purchase price.
The deed lists you as a co-owner with a thirty-two percent stake in the property."
I hadn't known that.
I had signed papers at the time, but Lucas had explained them as a formality.
A way to protect my contribution, he'd said.
I hadn't looked closely.
I had trusted him.
"He never mentioned it," I said.
"I don't imagine he did," my lawyer said.
"Eleanor, I need to ask you something directly.
Has Lucas asked you to sign anything recently?
Any documents at all?"
The corner of the paper.
The coffee mug holding it down.
"Not yet," I said.
"Don't sign anything without calling me first.
Not a single page."
"What are they trying to do?"
A pause.
"Based on what you've described — the conversation about paperwork, the urgency, Zoe being involved — my best guess is that they're trying to get your name off that deed before you realize it's there.
Once you sign a transfer document, your stake is gone.
Legally and permanently."
I didn't say anything for a moment.
Sixty-two thousand dollars.
Every extra shift.
Every skipped vacation.
Every pair of shoes I hadn't bought myself.
"Can they do it without my signature?" I asked.
"No.
They need your consent.
Which is probably why they haven't told you about any of this — they're waiting for the right moment to put something in front of you and make it sound routine."
After I hung up, I sat very still for a long time.
Then I heard Lucas on the stairs.
He knocked on the door and opened it without waiting.
"Morning, Mom.
How are you feeling?
Dana made eggs."
He was smiling.
Relaxed.
He had no idea.
"I'll be down in a minute," I said.
At the breakfast table, Lucas and Dana moved around each other with the easy rhythm of two people who had rehearsed.
Dana refilled my coffee without being asked.
Lucas asked about my physical therapy appointment.
It was the most attention either of them had paid me since I arrived.
I understood why now.
They needed something from me.
"Actually," Lucas said, settling into his chair, "I've been meaning to talk to you about something.
Nothing urgent.
Just some old paperwork from when you helped me buy the house.
My accountant flagged it — apparently there's a co-ownership clause that needs to be formally closed out.
It's just a formality at this point."
He said it the same way he'd said everything else.
Easy.
Practiced.
"A formality," I repeated.
"Exactly.
I'll have the documents ready in a day or two.
It'll take five minutes."
I looked at my son across the breakfast table.
This man I had raised alone.
This man whose college tuition I had worked double shifts to cover.
This man who had called me a burden in his own kitchen three nights ago.
"Of course," I said.
"Just let me know when they're ready."
He smiled and reached for his coffee.
He didn't see my hand move to my phone under the table.
He didn't see me open my messages.
He didn't see me type four words to my lawyer.
*They're moving.
So am I.*
That afternoon, while Lucas was at work and Dana was at the gym, I made two phone calls.
The first was to my lawyer.
The second was to Zoe.
This time, she answered on the first ring.
"Mom—"
"I know about the deed, Zoe."
Silence.
"I know my name is on it.
I know what Lucas is asking me to sign.
And I know you've been part of this conversation."
"Mom, it's not what you think—"
"Then tell me what it is.
Right now.
Not later.
Not when you're less busy.
Now."
Another silence.
Longer this time.
When Zoe spoke again, her voice had changed.
"He told me it was just cleaning up old paperwork.
He said you'd never even know the difference.
He said—" She stopped.
"Mom, I didn't know about the sixty-two thousand.
He told me you'd only contributed a small amount.
A gift."
"A gift," I said quietly.
"I'm sorry.
I should have asked you directly.
I should have called you the moment he brought it up."
I looked out the window of the guest room at the yard below.
The yard of a house that was, in part, mine.
"Are you going to help me?" I asked.
A long pause.
May you like
"Yes," Zoe said.
"Tell me what you need."
