Chapter 3

3

The next morning, I called in sick to work and drove straight to the county land records office.

The clerk behind the counter listened to my story, her expression turning troubled.

"Ms. Cole, for a case like this, you need to file an official police report first. Once you have the case number and report, we can pull the original filing documents for you."

"So I have to file a criminal complaint first?"

"Yes. Since this involves identity theft and document forgery, it's a criminal matter. We are legally required to cooperate with law enforcement."

I nodded. "Understood. Is there anything else?"

"Actually…" She hesitated, tapping a few keys on her terminal. "Looking at our system, it appears there might be more than one lien attached to your property."

My heart skipped a beat.

"What do you mean?"

"Besides that one-million-dollar lien, there's another private mortgage for five hundred thousand dollars recorded on December 25th."

December 25th.

I had been working overtime that day, too.

"So you're saying…"

"The total encumbrance is 1.5 million dollars."

I took a slow, deep breath to steady myself.

"Understood. Thank you."

I walked out of the registry and drove straight to the police precinct.

I filed a formal report.

I gave my statement.

I handed over all the preliminary evidence I had.

The entire process took three hours.

The detective assured me they would launch an immediate investigation.

That afternoon, armed with the official police case receipt, I returned to the records office.

"Ms. Cole, we will pull the certified original archives within three to five business days," the clerk told me.

"Thank you."

Just as I turned to leave, she called out to me again.

"By the way, there's one more thing you should know."

"What is it?"

"We ran a quick valuation check. The total mortgage amount on your home is currently very close to its full appraised market value. If these debts default completely, the lenders have the right to initiate a foreclosure sale."

"Meaning…"

"Meaning if you cannot legally prove that these contracts were forged, your house will be put up for public auction."

1.5 million dollars.

I had bought that condo for 1.8 million.

The six-hundred-thousand-dollar down payment had come from my parents selling their only home.

I had spent the last three years paying down the primary mortgage, with about a million left on the principal balance.

If the house went to auction, the proceeds would pay off the bank first, and then these fraudulent lenders.

What would be left for me? Absolutely nothing.

My parents' lifetime savings and three years of my hard-earned mortgage payments would vanish into thin air.

I stood outside the records building for a long time, the cold wind whipping against my coat.

Then, I dialed my close friend Amber's number.

"Amber, I need your help looking into something."

"What's going on?"

"Someone took out two fraudulent mortgages against my condo totaling 1.5 million dollars. I need to track down the security footage from the title company and follow the money trail."

"Someone mortgaged your house? Who the hell did that?"

"My mother-in-law."

The line went silent for a few seconds.

"Give me a little time. I'll make some calls."

After ending the call, I typed a message to my mom:

"Mom, something came up. I'll call you tonight."

She replied instantly: "Is everything okay?"

"I'll explain tonight."

At eight that evening, I sat on the couch and told my mother everything.

The 1.5 million dollars.

The two fraudulent mortgages.

The looming threat of foreclosure.

Over the phone, my mother's breathing grew heavier and more ragged with every word.

"She… how could she dare do this…"

"Mom, I already went to the police."

"Good!" My mother's voice trembled with rage. "She went behind your back… 1.5 million… and our six hundred thousand…"

"Mom, please don't panic. I'm handling it."

"Handling it?" she shouted, her voice breaking. "Sue her! Put her in prison where she belongs! Who does she think she is, touching my daughter's home?"

"Mom…"

"That money was your father's and my entire life savings! Your father is sixty-three years old, breaking his back on construction sites every single day! What right does she have? What right does she have to touch our blood and sweat?"

"Mom, calm down, please. The detectives are on it…"

"Calm down? How can I calm down?" Mom started sobbing. "Harper, tell me the truth… can you save your house?"

I stayed quiet for a couple of seconds.

"Yes," I said firmly. "I will protect this house no matter what."

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