“What?”
“I searched the buyer.”
“Why would you do that?”
“Because it’s my house.”
She laughed.
“It’s not like they’re criminals.”
“I didn’t say they were.”
She stared at me.
Then she said:
“Jason knows some people in real estate.”
“Does Jason own Desert Horizon?”
Her face changed.
Just slightly.
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“Then why is his name on the filing?”
She went completely still.
I watched the blood drain from her face.
“What filing?”
“The county filing.”
She swallowed.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Okay.”
I walked into the kitchen.
She followed.
“You’re making this complicated.”
“No.”
I opened the refrigerator.
“I’m making it accurate.”
“Maya.”
I took out a bottle of water.
Lauren slammed her hand on the counter.
“You always do this!”
I turned.
“Do what?”
“Act like everyone is trying to steal from you.”
I looked at her.
“Are you?”
She stared at me.
For several seconds.
Then she whispered:
“You don’t understand what I’ve had to do for this family.”
“I understand more than you think.”
“No, you don’t.”
“I know you’ve been planning this for months.”
Her face went pale.
“Who told you?”
There it was.
The question she shouldn’t have asked.
I smiled faintly.
“No one.”
She realized her mistake.
“You’re lying.”
“I don’t need to.”
She looked toward the hallway.
Then back at me.
“You really think you’re better than us.”
“No.”
“You always have.”
“No.”
“Because you have money.”
I shook my head.
“Because I trusted you.”
That silenced her.
For the first time, Lauren looked less angry than frightened.
Then she said something quietly.
Something that changed everything.
“You don’t know what Jason found.”
I stared at her.
“What did Jason find?”
She immediately looked away.
“Nothing.”
“Lauren.”
“Forget it.”
“What did he find?”
She grabbed her keys.
“I have to go.”
I stepped toward her.
“You said Jason found something.”
She reached the door.
Then stopped.
Without turning around, she whispered:
“Ask Dad what happened five years ago.”
The door slammed behind her.
I stood alone in the kitchen.
Five years ago.
The year I bought the house.
The year I took over the mortgage.
The year Dad’s kidneys failed.
The year I thought I had saved my family.
I looked toward my father’s bedroom.
And for the first time, I wondered whether I had been the one who misunderstood the story all along.
PART 4
For several minutes, I stood outside my father’s bedroom without knocking.
Five years ago.
The words kept repeating in my head.
Ask Dad what happened five years ago.
I finally knocked.
No answer.
I knocked again.
“Come in.”
Dad was sitting beside the window in his recliner. The television was off.
He looked older than he had the night before.
Not physically.
Something in his expression had changed.
He already knew why I was there.
I closed the door behind me.
“Dad, what happened five years ago?”
He looked at the floor.
“I don’t know what Lauren told you.”
“She told me to ask you.”
His hands tightened around the arms of the chair.
I waited.
Finally, he said, “You shouldn’t have bought this house.”
The words hit me harder than I expected.
“What?”
“You were twenty-six.”
“I know.”
“You had your whole life ahead of you.”
“I was trying to keep you from losing your home.”
“You thought you were.”
I stared at him.
“What does that mean?”
He looked toward the window.
“Your mother and I had already decided to sell.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“You never told me.”
“We were embarrassed.”
“Then why did you let me pay everything?”
“We didn’t know what else to do.”
I shook my head.
“That’s not all, is it?”
Dad closed his eyes.
“No.”
My voice became quieter.
“What happened?”
He took a long breath.
“The house wasn’t going into foreclosure because of the mortgage.”
I froze.
“What?”
“There was another debt.”
“What debt?”
He looked at me.
“Jason.”
I felt cold.
“Jason wasn’t even married to Lauren then.”
“I know.”
“How could he have a debt connected to this house?”
Dad swallowed.
“He borrowed money from me.”
I stared at him.
“How much?”
“Seventy thousand.”
My mouth fell open.
“When?”
“Before you bought the house.”
“Why?”
“He said he had a construction opportunity.”
I remembered every vague story Jason had told over the years.
A development project.
A commercial contract.
A renovation company.
Always something.
“What happened to the money?”
“He lost it.”
“And you used the house as collateral?”
Dad nodded.
“Without telling Mom?”
Another nod.
“Without telling me?”
“I thought I could recover it.”
“But you couldn’t.”
“No.”
I sat down.
“That’s why the mortgage was behind.”
“Partly.”
“What’s the rest?”
Dad looked at me for a long time.
Then he said:
“Jason still owes money.”
“To you?”
“No.”
He looked ashamed.
“To people I don’t know.”
My heart sank.
“Who?”
“I don’t know.”
“How did this become my problem?”
Dad’s eyes filled.
“It wasn’t supposed to.”
I stood.
“Then why is Jason trying to buy my house?”
Dad’s silence answered me.
“Tell me.”
“He believes the property is worth more than the debt.”
I stared at him.
“What debt?”
Dad looked down.
“Jason has been borrowing against future projects. He used Lauren’s name for some of it.”
My stomach turned.
“Lauren knows?”
“Yes.”
“And now they want my house?”
“Jason says selling it will clear everything.”
I laughed once.
There was nothing funny about it.
“So that’s the plan.”
Dad nodded.
“Sell my house for $295,000, use the money to pay Jason’s debts, move Mom and you into some condo, and leave me with nothing.”
“I didn’t want that.”
“But you let it happen.”
He closed his eyes.
“I was afraid.”
“Of what?”
“Of losing Lauren.”
That sentence hurt.
More than the money.
More than the contract.
