Chapter 3 - The Neighbor Who Notarized My Parents' Forged Signatures Finally Admitted Why He Had Helped My Brother—and the Reason Was Worse Than I ImaginedHarold Jenkins lived three houses away.
When I knocked on his door, he looked surprised.
“Ethan?”
“Yes.”
His face changed.
He knew.
“Can we talk?”
He stepped aside.
I entered.
He looked seventy-five.
Tired.
Nervous.
“I know about the documents,” I said.
He sat down.
“I didn't know what Mark was doing.”
“You notarized them.”
“I was told your parents understood.”
“They didn't.”
He looked at the floor.
“I'm sorry.”
“Why did you do it?”
He didn't answer.
I placed the property transfer document on the table.
“Because Mark threatened you?”
Harold looked up.
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“With what?”
“He knew about my gambling debt.”
I stared at him.
“He said he'd expose me.”
“So you helped him steal my parents' house.”
Harold closed his eyes.
“I thought it was temporary.”
“It wasn't.”
“I know.”
He handed me a folder.
“This is everything he gave me.”
Inside were copies of documents.
Emails.
Payment receipts.
And one photograph.
Mark standing beside a real-estate developer.
The developer's name was Nathan Cole.
I recognized him.
He owned the company behind the highway expansion.
Laura examined the documents.
“This is important.”
“Why?”
“Because it proves Mark had a buyer before he acquired the property.”
Mark had planned everything.
He knew the land would become valuable.
He knew my parents were vulnerable.
He intercepted my money.
He forged my letters.
He convinced them I was bankrupt.
Then he created debt against their home.
Finally, he planned to sell it.
But there was another document.
A handwritten note from Mark.
Once Ethan stops sending money, they'll have no choice but to depend on me.
I felt sick.
He had deliberately isolated them.
He wanted them to believe I had abandoned them.
Then he could become the only person they trusted.
I returned home.
Mark was there.
I placed the note on the table.
He stared at it.
“You wrote this.”
He said nothing.
“Why?”
Finally, he sat down.
“I needed the house.”
“Why?”
“Because everything I built was collapsing.”
I laughed.
“So you stole from me?”
“I borrowed it.”
“You stole it.”
“I planned to pay you back.”
“When?”
“When the development deal closed.”
I stared.
“And Mom and Dad?”
“I would have moved them somewhere better.”
“You were going to take their house.”
“I was going to give them another one.”
“Without telling them?”
He looked away.
“You wouldn't understand.”
“No.”
I stepped closer.
“I understand perfectly.”
Mark's eyes filled with tears.
“You always got everything.”
“What?”
“Dad's approval.”
I stared.
“You think this is about Dad?”
“You left.”
“I worked.”
“You became successful.”
“And you think that justifies this?”
“No.”
He looked at me.
“I know what I did was wrong.”
“Then tell me everything.”
He was silent.
Finally, he whispered:
“The house isn't the only thing I took.”
My heart sank.
“What else?”
He looked toward the hallway.
“Mom's inheritance.”
I froze.
“What inheritance?”
May you like
Mark swallowed.
“The one Grandpa left her.”
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