Part 2: The Papers Under the Tree
My mother's breathing turned ragged.
"You've lost your mind."
"No," I answered quietly.
"I finally found it."
Silence.
Not because she didn't know what I meant.
Because she did.
"You were seventeen," she finally whispered.
"You wouldn't have understood."
"I understood enough to ask about Dad's will."
"I protected this family."
"You stole from it."
She hung up.
Thirty minutes later, Natalie and I drove to my mother's house.
Every window glowed with Christmas lights.
Laughter drifted onto the porch.
To anyone driving by, it looked like the perfect family gathering.
Natalie carried the red holiday gift bag.
Inside weren't presents.
They were court filings.
She knocked once.
Stephanie opened the door wearing a velvet green dress.
"Oh," she said flatly.
"You actually came."
Natalie smiled politely.
"Special delivery."
Stephanie frowned as Natalie handed her the gift bag.
"What's this?"
"Legal service."
The smile disappeared.
Inside the dining room, forks stopped moving.
My mother stood.
Frank—my stepfather—looked between everyone in confusion.
"What is this?"
Natalie spoke clearly.
"Rachel's lawsuit seeking recovery of fraudulently transferred property, concealed inheritance assets, financial damages, and attorney's fees."
The room went completely silent.
Stephanie laughed.
"This has to be a joke."
"It isn't."
Natalie placed certified copies onto the dining table beside the Christmas ham.
"The property at Oak Street."
She slid over another document.
"The rental apartment."
Another.
"The probate records."
Then another.
"The original will."
My mother's face drained of color.
"You found it..."
"I did."
Frank slowly picked up the will.
His eyes scanned the page.
Then he looked at my mother.
"You told me this house was yours."
She didn't answer.
"You told me your husband died without a will."
Still nothing.
Frank looked at Rachel.
"...Is this real?"
Natalie answered.
"It has already been verified by the probate court."
Frank turned back toward his wife.
May you like
"What else have you lied about?"
No one touched their Christmas dinner.
