Chapter 8: My Son's Explanation
He talked for a long time.
I let him.
It had started, he said, six months before he lost his job.
Sloan had found a house — a specific house, in a neighborhood she had decided they needed to live in, with a price tag they could not afford.
She had done the math, Harrison said, and the math kept coming back to one number: the equity in my house.
"She said it was just borrowing against it," he said.
"She said you'd never even notice the account withdrawals because you never checked it.
She said once we were on our feet we'd pay it back and you'd never know."
"And the deed?"
He looked at the table.
"She said if we had a legal stake in the property, we could use it as collateral.
She had a whole plan.
A broker she'd already spoken to." He stopped.
"I told her it was wrong.
I did tell her that."
"But you signed the document anyway."
"She said you'd agree if we asked properly.
She said we just needed to get the paperwork in order first and then explain it to you after."
"Harrison." I kept my voice quiet.
"You forged my signature on a property deed."
"It wasn't—" He stopped.
"I guided your hand.
You thought it was the insurance form.
I knew you didn't have your glasses."
The room was very still.
"You looked at your mother," I said slowly, "without her glasses, trusting you, and you guided her hand across a document that transferred half her house to you."
He didn't answer.
"Look at me."
He looked up.
His eyes were red at the edges.
"Is there anything else?" I said.
"Any other document.
Any other account.
Any other thing I signed or agreed to that I don't know about."
A long pause.
"No."
"Are you certain?"
"Yes.
Mom, I swear—"
"Don't." I held up one hand.
"Don't swear to me right now.
You've used up that word."
He flinched.
It was small, but I saw it.
"I have an attorney," I said.
"He is filing to void the deed tomorrow.
He is also pursuing recovery of the forty-one thousand dollars.
You will cooperate fully with that process."
"Mom—"
"You will cooperate fully.
You will provide every document, every record, every communication between you and Sloan related to the account and the deed.
If you do not, I will authorize my attorney to refer the matter to the financial crimes unit and you will handle the consequences of that without my help."
Harrison's face went pale.
"You'd have me arrested?"
"I would allow the law to do what the law does when someone commits a crjme against their mother." I stood.
"I don't want that.
I want you to understand that I will not protect you from it if you force my hand."
He was quiet for a long moment.
"What about Sloan?"
"What about her?"
"She planned this.
Most of it was her idea.
I know that doesn't excuse me, but—"
"No," I said.
"It doesn't."
"Are you going after her too?"
I picked up my coffee cup and carried it to the sink.
"My attorney will pursue recovery of every dollar from every person legally responsible.
What happens to Sloan is between her, her attorney, and the facts." I rinsed the cup.
"I'd suggest you think very carefully about whether the two of you still have the same interests."
I heard his chair move.
"Mom." His voice broke slightly on the word.
"I'm sorry.
I know that's not enough.
I know I can't just say it and have it mean anything right now.
But I am."
I stood at the sink with my back to him.
"I know you are," I said.
"I'm going to need time to figure out what that's worth."
I heard him get up.
Heard him walk to the hallway.
Heard him stop.
"Dad would have been ashamed of me," he said quietly.
"You were right about that."
I didn't answer.
I listened to him walk upstairs.
I listened to the house settle around me.
Then I dried my hands, picked up my phone, and called Paul Garrett.
"He's going to cooperate," I said.
May you like
"Good," Paul said.
"Because this morning I found something else."
