Chapter 4: The Property That Didn't Exist
Loretta read the message a third time.
Please do not warn Vanessa that we have contacted you. She believes the second property belongs to you, too.
For several seconds, the law office seemed unnaturally quiet. A printer rattled behind the reception desk. Somewhere outside, a siren rose above the morning traffic and disappeared into the distance.
Loretta held the phone with both hands.
“David,” she whispered, “I have never owned a second property.””
Her attorney pulled a chair closer.
“Have you ever owned land outside Atlanta? A vacation home? An investment property with your husband?””
“No. We had this house. That was enough for us.””
“Did your husband own property before you married?””
“Not that I knew of.””
David studied the message.
“We need to establish who sent this and whether they're connected to the lender. Don't reply yet.””
“But how can somebody believe I own a property I've never seen?””
“Someone may have used your identity. Or the person contacting you may have incomplete information.””
Loretta lowered herself into the chair.
She remembered every house she had ever lived in. The small apartment where Vanessa took her first steps. The rental where her husband had taught their daughter to ride a bicycle in the parking lot. The modest brick home they had eventually purchased together in southwest Atlanta.
There had never been a second property.
Never.
David called the lender's fraud department while his assistant began organizing the documents.
The first representative transferred him to another department. The second requested written authorization. David explained that he represented Loretta and that she disputed the electronic signature.
By the third call, Loretta's hands had stopped trembling.
By the fourth, she had begun to feel angry.
Not the explosive anger that made people shout.
The cold kind that made every detail suddenly clear.
When David finally hung up, he leaned back in his chair.
“The lender has opened a preliminary fraud review. They're sending us a copy of the application and the supporting documents through their secure process.””
“And the second property?””
“The representative wouldn't discuss it without reviewing the authorization records. But the unknown number appears to belong to a title-services company.””
“Can we call them?””
“We can verify the company independently before we share anything.””
He wrote down the company's name and asked his assistant to locate its official contact information.
While they waited, Loretta opened her messages again.
There were four missed calls from Vanessa.
A fifth arrived while she watched.
She answered.
“Hello?””
“Where are you?”” Vanessa demanded.
Loretta looked at David, who quietly gestured for her to remain calm.
“I'm safe.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
“I'm not discussing this over the phone.””
Vanessa exhaled sharply.
“Jayden is upset. He thinks I threw you out.””
“You did throw me out.””
“I told you we needed space!””
“You put my suitcase outside and closed the door.””
“Because you wouldn't listen!””
Loretta pressed her lips together.
She could hear a cupboard opening and closing in the background. Vanessa sounded as though she were pacing around the kitchen.
“Mom, I need you to come home.””
“Why?””
“Because we need to settle this like a family.””
“We can talk when we're both ready.””
“No. We need to talk now.””
Loretta glanced at the papers on David's desk.
“Vanessa, did you apply for a loan using my name?””
Silence.
Not the brief silence of somebody searching for an answer.
The longer silence of somebody deciding which lie would be safest.
“What loan?”” Vanessa finally asked.
Loretta closed her eyes.
“I see.””
“Mom, don't do that.””
“Do what?””
“Use that tone with me. You're always making me feel like I've done something wrong.””
“Did you apply for a loan using my name?””
Vanessa's voice sharpened.
“I was trying to protect this family.””
“From what?””
“You wouldn't understand.””
“Then explain it.””
“I can't explain everything over the phone.””
“Did you use my property as collateral?””
“Mom, please.””
Loretta felt her stomach tighten.
“Answer the question.””
“I didn't steal your house!””
“I didn't say you did.””
“But that's what you're thinking!””
“I am asking you what happened.””
Vanessa took a shaky breath.
“Come home. We'll talk in person.””
“Did you use my name?””
“Just come home!””
The call ended.
Loretta stared at the screen.
David had heard enough to understand.
“She didn't deny it,” he said.
“No.””
“But that doesn't establish exactly what she did.””
Loretta nodded.
She was beginning to understand something painful: loving someone did not mean knowing everything about them.
Sometimes it meant discovering how much you had never thought to ask.
An hour later, David's assistant returned with a printed company record and a verified telephone number. David called the title-services office and requested the compliance department.
A woman named Patricia answered.
After confirming Loretta's identity through a process David supervised, Patricia explained that her company had been asked to verify ownership records for a residential property in Marietta, a city northwest of Atlanta.
The address meant nothing to Loretta.
“Who submitted the request?”” David asked.
“An individual named Vanessa Mitchell.””
Loretta's fingers curled around the armrest.
Patricia continued carefully.
“The request stated that Mrs. Mitchell was assisting her mother with a property transaction and that Mrs. Loretta Mitchell was the beneficial owner of the residence.””
“What residence?”” Loretta asked.
Patricia gave them the address.
Loretta shook her head immediately.
“I've never been there.””
“That's what we need to establish,” David replied.
Patricia explained that the company had not completed the transaction because discrepancies had appeared in the ownership documents. The file had been flagged for additional review.
“Did you issue any title insurance?”” David asked.
“No. We never reached that stage.””
“Was any loan funded through your office?””
“No.””
Loretta released a breath she hadn't realized she was holding.
At least nobody had sold a house she didn't own.
But Patricia wasn't finished.
“The application listed a property value of approximately six hundred and forty thousand dollars,” she said.
“The proposed financing was substantial.””
David made a note.
“Who is listed as the owner?””
There was a pause while Patricia checked the file.
“According to the submitted paperwork, the owner is a trust.””
Loretta frowned.
“A trust?””
“Yes. The trust is listed under the name of the Mitchell Family Living Trust.””
Loretta turned toward David.
He had stopped writing.
“Loretta,” he said slowly, “have you ever established a trust?””
“No.””
“Has your husband?””
“Not that I know of.””
David asked Patricia for the trust's creation date.
When she answered, he looked at Loretta with a new expression.
The trust had supposedly been established twenty-seven years earlier.
That was long before the family bought their Atlanta home.
“Could someone have created a trust using our names?”” Loretta asked.
“Someone could submit documents claiming a trust exists,” David replied.
“Whether those documents are legitimate is another question.””
Patricia agreed to preserve the file and send the relevant records through the appropriate legal channels.
When the call ended, Loretta stood and walked to the window.
The sky had brightened slightly, revealing the tops of buildings across the street.
She thought about Vanessa at home, making breakfast for Jayden, opening the curtains, and pretending that everything was normal.
Then she remembered something her husband had said years ago.
They had been sitting at the kitchen table, sorting bills after a difficult month. He had placed his hand over hers and told her that the house was their safety net.
“If life ever gets ugly,” he had said, “at least we'll have something nobody can take away from us.””
She had believed him.
David approached the window.
“Do you have any of your husband's old financial records?””
“Some. His tax returns, insurance papers, a few bank statements. Most of his things are in boxes.””
“Where?””
“In the storage room at the house.””
“Can Vanessa access them?””
Loretta hesitated.
“She can access the storage room.””
David nodded.
“We should make an inventory of anything you still possess and request official records independently. Don't attempt to retrieve documents by entering the property without permission. We'll handle the legal side properly.””
Loretta turned back toward him.
“What if Vanessa has been planning this for a long time?””
“Then the records should help us understand the timeline.””
Her phone vibrated again.
This time, it was a photograph from Jayden.
It showed a sheet of paper resting on his bedroom desk.
The handwriting was messy, with several words crossed out.
At the top, he had written:
*THINGS MOM WON'T EXPLAIN*
Below it were three questions.
Why does Grandma own our house?
Why does Mom keep getting letters she hides?
Who is Daniel Mitchell?
Loretta stared at the final name.
Daniel.
Her husband's name had been Daniel.
But Jayden had never known him. Daniel had died before Jayden was born.
She typed a message.
*Sweetheart, where did you find that name?*
The response came almost immediately.
*In Mom's desk. I wasn't looking for it. I was looking for my school permission slip. There was an envelope with Grandpa's name on it.*
Loretta felt the room tilt slightly.
David read the message over her shoulder.
“Does your husband have any living relatives who might know about a trust?””
“His sister died years ago. He had a cousin in Birmingham, but we lost touch.””
“Could Daniel have created a trust without telling you?””
Loretta shook her head, although uncertainty had begun to creep into her voice.
“He told me everything important.””
David didn't challenge her.
Instead, he asked, “Do you remember anyone named Daniel Mitchell who wasn't your husband?””
“No.””
She looked at the photograph again.
The paper Jayden had found was ordinary notebook paper. But beneath the third question, he had written one more line in smaller letters.
Why does Mom say Grandpa is still alive?
Loretta's fingers went numb.
She read it again.
Then she called Jayden.
He answered in a whisper.
“Grandma?””
“Baby, are you alone?””
“I'm in my room.””
“Can you tell me what you meant by that last question?””
Jayden hesitated.
“Mom was talking to somebody on the phone last night. She said she couldn't keep doing this because Grandpa might come back.””
Loretta gripped the phone.
“Did she say anything else?””
Jayden's voice dropped even lower.
“She said if he came back, everything would belong to him again.””
Loretta couldn't speak.
Across the office, David slowly closed the folder containing the loan documents.
For twenty-seven years, Loretta had believed her husband was dead.
She had stood beside his grave. She had watched the casket lowered. She had raised their daughter alone.
Now her grandson was telling her that Vanessa feared a man who had supposedly been dead for decades.
And somewhere in the middle of that impossible revelation was a trust Loretta had never created, a property she had never owned, and a loan she had never agreed to guarantee.
“Jayden,” she finally whispered, “I need you to listen to me carefully. Don't search your mother's desk again, and don't confront her about anything you've found. You haven't done anything wrong.””
“Are you mad at me?””
“No, baby. Not at all.””
“Are you coming back?””
Loretta looked at the brass key in her palm.
“Yes,” she said.
“But first, I need to find out the truth.””
When she ended the call, David was already reaching for his telephone.
“I'm going to request the original records,” he said.
“And I want to find out whether the trust has any connection to your husband's estate.””
Loretta stood very still.
Because for the first time, she wasn't just afraid that Vanessa had betrayed her.
May you like
She was afraid that the story of her husband's death might have been another lie.
And if Daniel Mitchell was somehow still alive, he might be the only person who could explain why their daughter had risked everything to keep him away.
