Chapter 3 - The Guard Said No
The building's entrance was designed to handle chaos.
Deliveries.
Renovations.
Furniture shipments.
Moving trucks.
But nothing could prepare the staff for the scene Chloe was creating.
I eventually went downstairs.
The guard saw me and immediately approached.
“Ms. Morgan.”
“Yes?”
“Sorry to bother you.”
He glanced toward Chloe.
“She says she has authorization to move into your unit.”
I looked at Chloe.
She looked furious.
“Jessi, what did you do?”
I blinked.
“Me?”
“You told them I was moving in!”
“No.”
Her expression changed.
“What?”
“I never authorized you to move into my apartment.”
She stared at me.
Then at the guard.
Then back at me.
“You agreed!”
“I never did.”
“My mother said—”
“I know what Mom said.”
Chloe's face went pale.
“You knew?”
“For three weeks.”
Her mouth opened.
“What?”
“I knew.”
Flynn stepped forward.
“Let's calm down.”
I looked at him.
“Were you told I had agreed?”
He nodded slowly.
“Yes.”
“Did you verify it?”
“No.”
“That's the problem.”
Chloe's eyes filled with tears.
“You let us prepare everything.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me spend money.”
“Yes.”
“You watched me tell my kids this was our new home.”
“Yes.”
Her voice broke.
“Why?”
I could have said many things.
Because you tried to steal my home.
Because Mom and Dad decided my sacrifices were theirs to distribute.
Because you never once thought to ask me.
Instead, I said:
“Because I needed to know how far this had gone.”
The guard looked uncomfortable.
I turned to him.
“I'm sorry you were dragged into this.”
He shook his head.
“No problem. We followed procedure.”
A property manager approached carrying a file.
“Ms. Morgan, we have the ownership documents here.”
She opened the folder.
“Your name is the sole registered owner.”
Chloe stared.
“But Mom said—”
The manager interrupted gently.
“I'm sure there has been a misunderstanding.”
“There hasn't,” I said.
The crowd around us had begun to watch.
Two movers stood beside the truck.
Flynn pulled Chloe aside.
She whispered something.
He whispered back.
Then her face changed.
She looked at me.
“Did you call a lawyer?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because someone submitted a document with a forged signature.”
Silence.
Flynn's eyes widened.
Chloe looked genuinely confused.
“What document?”
I handed her a copy.
She stared at it.
“This isn't mine.”
“I know.”
“That's your signature.”
“It isn't.”
She looked at the signature again.
Then at me.
“I don't understand.”
“You don't have to. But somebody created this.”
Her breathing became faster.
“Mom?”
I didn't answer.
“Jessi, did Mom do this?”
“I don't know.”
“But you suspect her.”
“I suspect the person who created it.”
Flynn stepped closer.
“Chloe, call your mother.”
She did.
Speakerphone.
The phone rang.
Mom answered.
“Finally! What happened? Why isn't the truck moving?”
Chloe said, “Mom, the building says Jessi owns the apartment.”
There was silence.
Then:
“She owns it legally, yes.”
I felt my jaw tighten.
“But you're moving into it,” Chloe said.
Another pause.
“She agreed.”
“No, she didn't,” Chloe whispered.
Then Mom's voice changed.
“Put Jessi on the phone.”
I took Chloe's phone.
“Hi, Mom.”
Her voice was cold.
“You're embarrassing your sister.”
“No.”
“After everything this family has done for you—”
“You mean paying for my apartment?”
“What?”
“Exactly.”
She went silent.
“I paid for it,” I continued. “Every mortgage payment. Every tax bill. Every insurance premium. Every repair.”
“That isn't the point.”
“Then tell me the point.”
“The point is family.”
I looked at Chloe.
“Family doesn't create fake signatures.”
Mom hung up.
Chloe stared at me.
Then my father called.
I didn't answer.
He called again.
Then again.
Then again.
The phone kept ringing.
I counted.
Five.
Ten.
Fifteen.
I eventually turned it off.
The building manager asked, “Would you like us to have the movers leave?”
“Yes.”
The guard nodded.
The moving truck pulled away.
Chloe stood there as if she'd been abandoned in the middle of a dream.
The children were still in the SUV.
I walked over.
Their little faces were pressed against the windows.
“Are you okay?” I asked Chloe.
She nodded, but tears were falling.
“No.”
I lowered my voice.
“You need to ask Mom and Dad why they told you this was yours.”
She whispered, “I thought you gave it to me.”
“I never said that.”
“Why didn't you stop me?”
I looked at her.
“Because I wanted you to discover the truth yourself.”
She covered her face.
Flynn looked ashamed.
“I'm sorry.”
I nodded.
“I know.”
Then something unexpected happened.
One of the movers approached.
“Ma'am?”
“Yes?”
He held out a folder.
“This was taped inside the truck's document box.”
I opened it.
The first page was a copy of my property record.
The second was the fake transfer authorization.
The third was a handwritten note.
Move everything in before owner objects.
My stomach turned.
I looked at Mia's name in the corner of the page.
She had not written it.
But beneath the words was a phone number.
I recognized it.
It belonged to my father.
The shock was immediate.
I took a photograph.
Then I called Mia.
She answered.
“Tell me you found something.”
“I did.”
I sent the photo.
She called back within seconds.
“Do not confront him yet.”
“Again?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because this proves intent.”
I looked at Chloe.
She was crying quietly.
The phone in my pocket started ringing again.
Dad.
Then Mom.
Then Chloe's number, although she was standing directly in front of me.
I counted every call.
Twenty-eight.
By lunchtime it was forty-three.
By three o'clock it was sixty-one.
By evening it reached seventy-nine.
Seventy-nine calls.
I answered the eightieth.
My father's voice came through.
“Jessi, enough.”
“Enough?”
“You've made your point.”
“No.”
“What do you want?”
I looked around my apartment.
“My home back.”
There was silence.
Then he said the sentence that changed everything.
“You have no idea what you just stopped us from doing.”
I stood perfectly still.
May you like
“What does that mean?”
He hung up.
