“Tyler.”
“She’s upstairs.”
“And her mother?”
“She’s in the living room. She’s barely conscious.”
“Has anyone called an ambulance?”
“They can’t get through.”
I closed my eyes.
“Listen to me. I’m coming.”
“No!”
His answer was so immediate that I stopped.
“Why?”
Another silence.
Then he whispered, “Because whoever did this might still be here.”
I looked at Ray.
He had heard every word.
“Tyler,” I said carefully, “did you see someone?”
“No.”
“Did Chloe?”
“I don’t know.”
“Then why did you text me that she knows what I found?”
His breathing changed.
“Because she told me.”
“Told you what?”
“I asked her why you were calling me earlier. She said…”
He stopped.
“What?”
“She said you were probably checking the house records.”
My stomach dropped.
“What house records?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tyler, stop protecting her.”
“I’m not protecting her!”
“Then tell me the truth.”
His voice cracked.
“I don’t know what’s happening, Mom.”
For a moment, I heard the frightened little boy I remembered from thirty years ago.
The child who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms.
The boy who once told me that if I was nearby, nothing bad could happen.
Then he whispered:
“Mom… I think someone has been stealing from you.”
I froze.
“What?”
“I found documents.”
“What documents?”
“Your property records.”
My hand tightened around the steering wheel.
“What do you mean?”
“I found them in Chloe’s desk.”
Ray stared at me.
“Tyler,” I said, “what did those documents say?”
“I don’t know everything.”
“Tell me what you know.”
“She had copies of the deed to your house.”
The world seemed to go silent.
My house.
The little home my husband and I had bought when Tyler was four.
The home where I had raised him.
The home where every Christmas morning had happened.
The home that still carried the smell of his childhood.
Why would Chloe have a copy of the deed?
Then Tyler said something that made my blood run cold.
“There was another document.”
“What document?”
“A power of attorney.”
I couldn’t speak.
Ray whispered, “Hazel…”
I held up my hand.
“Keep talking.”
“It had your name on it.”
My heart began pounding.
“Was it signed?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was my signature on it?”
“I think so.”
The truck suddenly felt too small.
I had never signed a power of attorney giving Chloe control over my property.
Never.
“Where is it?”
“Chloe took it.”
“When?”
“Tonight.”
I looked at Ray.
“Did she say where she was going?”
“No.”
“Tyler, listen carefully. Do not let Chloe leave the house.”
He went silent.
Then:
“Mom…”
“What?”
“She already left.”
My stomach dropped.
“When?”
“About twenty minutes ago.”
“Where did she go?”
“I don’t know.”
“Tyler!”
“She took the SUV.”
I glanced through the windshield.
Snow was still hammering the road.
“Did she take anything?”
Another pause.
“She took the documents.”
My jaw tightened.
“Which documents?”
“All of them.”
I understood immediately.
Chloe wasn’t simply running away from the storm.
She was running from something.
“Tyler, stay in the basement. Lock the door.”
“What?”
“Do it.”
“Mom, why?”
“Because I don’t know who I can trust anymore.”
I ended the call.
Ray climbed into the passenger seat.
“Where are we going?”
“Tyler’s.”
He looked at me.
“You’re sure?”
“No.”
I started driving.
The plow blade dropped.
Metal scraped across packed snow.
The truck crawled forward.
For the first few minutes, neither of us spoke.
Then Ray asked:
“Who was in the security footage?”
I kept my eyes on the road.
“Chloe’s brother.”
Ray turned toward me.
“Marcus?”
I nodded.
Marcus had never liked me.
He had always been polite enough in public, but there was something cold about him.
Years ago, I had refused to lend him twenty thousand dollars for a business that collapsed six months later.
He had never forgiven me.
But that wasn’t enough.
Why would he shut off Tyler’s gas?
Why would he steal my property documents?
Why would Chloe be involved?
I didn’t have the answers.
Yet.
We drove another mile.
Then we saw headlights.
A vehicle was sitting sideways across the road.
An SUV.
Black.
Abandoned.
I slowed.
My headlights illuminated the license plate.
My heart stopped.
It was Chloe’s SUV.
I stepped on the brake.
Ray grabbed the dashboard.
“That’s her car.”
I nodded.
We climbed out.
Snow immediately soaked my boots.
The driver’s door was open.
The vehicle was empty.
I walked around it.
The passenger door was open too.
There was a purse on the floor.
Chloe’s purse.
I looked inside.
Wallet.
Keys.
Phone charger.
Lipstick.
But no documents.
Ray pointed toward the snow.
“Hazel.”
Footprints.
One set.
They led away from the SUV.
Toward the trees.
I followed them.
“Hazel, wait.”
But I kept walking.
The footprints disappeared beneath a cluster of pine branches.
Then I saw something red.
A scarf.
I picked it up.
Chloe’s scarf.
And beneath it, half-buried in snow, was a leather folder.
I opened it.
Property documents.
My deed.
Copies of bank statements.
Insurance policies.
Tax records.
And a power of attorney.
I stared at the last page.
There was a signature.
My name.
But something was wrong.
I knew my own signature.
That wasn’t mine.
It was close.
Very close.
But the final stroke was different.
Someone had forged it.
Ray looked over my shoulder.
“That’s fraud.”
“Yes.”
“And if Chloe has been using that…”
“She could have been trying to take control of my property.”
I felt sick.
Then I heard something.
A branch snapping.
Ray immediately turned.
“Who’s there?”
Nothing.
We waited.
The wind howled through the trees.
Then another sound.
A muffled cry.
“Help…”
My head snapped toward the woods.
“Someone’s there.”
We followed the voice.
Twenty yards in, we found Chloe.
She was sitting against a tree.
Her coat was covered in snow.
Blood ran down one side of her forehead.
Ray rushed toward her.
“Don’t move.”
She looked at me.
Her eyes widened.
“You…”
I stopped.
“Who did this?”
She shook her head.
“I didn’t…”
“Who?”
Her lips trembled.
“Marcus.”
I crouched beside her.
“What happened?”
“He followed me.”
“Why?”
“I took the documents.”
“Why?”
She started crying.
Not the angry tears I had seen before.
Not the manipulative tears I had watched her use when she wanted something.
These were different.
Terrified.
“I didn’t know what he was going to do,” she whispered.
“What were you doing with my property documents?”
She closed her eyes.
“I was going to leave.”
“Leave where?”
“California.”
“Why?”
She looked directly at me.
“Because I knew you were going to find out.”
“Find out what?”
She swallowed.
“Your son didn’t know everything.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“What don’t I know?”
She hesitated.
Then she whispered:
“The money wasn’t for our lifestyle.”
“What money?”
“Your money.”
I stared at her.
“What did you do with it?”
She looked away.
“I wasn’t the only one.”
“Who else?”
She started shaking.
“Tyler.”
My heart broke.
“No.”
“He knows.”
“No.”
“He knew about the accounts.”
I stood.
“You’re lying.”
“I wish I was.”
The wind screamed around us.
I looked at Ray.
He looked back at me.
Then Chloe said something that changed everything.
“Hazel… Tyler didn’t call you tonight because he wanted your help.”
My blood ran cold.
“Then why did he call?”
She stared into my eyes.
“Because he knows Marcus is coming for you next.”
Before I could respond, a distant engine roared through the trees.
Ray stood.
“Someone’s coming.”
The headlights appeared between the trees.
Fast.
Too fast.
Chloe grabbed my wrist.
“Don’t let him see the folder.”
“Who?”
She looked toward the headlights.
And whispered one name.
“Marcus.”
The vehicle accelerated.
Straight toward us.
Ray pulled me backward.
The headlights exploded across the snow.
And just before the vehicle reached the clearing, I realized something terrifying.
Marcus wasn’t trying to scare us.
