Chapter 11 - Four Days Until Friday

At nine on Wednesday morning, Tessa filed a civil action challenging the forged power of attorney and asked the court for an emergency order preventing transfer of the property. She also notified the title insurer, Westbridge's counsel, and the escrow company that ownership and signing authority were disputed.

"Can they still close?" I asked.

"A prudent title company won't insure a disputed transaction," Tessa said. "But I don't want to rely on prudence. We need the order."

I sat in Dad's truck outside the courthouse with a pillow against my ribs. Every breath reminded me of the stairs.

Ethan's construction business was not merely failing. Calvin's records showed payments to a second account called Reed Renovations. Its owner was listed as Daniel Reed, the same name on the townhouse utility bill.

"Do you think Daniel Reed exists?" Dad asked.

"I think Ethan needs him to."

Tessa had obtained public business records. Daniel Reed had formed the company eight months earlier, using a mailbox address and a phone number that forwarded to Margaret's office.

"There's your other house," I said. "A place for the money to go."

That afternoon, a judge signed an interim order barring the sale while the court reviewed the ownership dispute. Tessa sent it to the escrow company and recorded a notice of the pending lawsuit.

For the first time since my fall, I slept for two uninterrupted hours.

Then I woke to Dad arguing on the porch.

Margaret had arrived with a box of Sophie's clothes and a packet of papers.

"I only want to see my granddaughter," she said.

"You can leave the box," Dad answered. "And go."

"Don't you dare tell me where I can go."

I stepped into the doorway. "You can go answer questions for the police."

Margaret looked past me into the house, searching for Sophie.

"Leah, our families can still settle this privately. Westbridge has offered enough to make everyone comfortable."

"Except me. I'd be in a grave or a hospital."

Her eyes narrowed. "You think a piece of paper can stop what's coming?"

Dad lifted his phone and began recording the encounter.

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Margaret reached into her handbag and held up a photograph of Sophie outside school.

"No," she said. "I think you should listen to me before somebody else decides how this ends."