Chapter 7 - New Locks on an Old Door
I didn't leave the hospital until Dr. Patel said Claire was stable enough for a brief family visit and Jo promised to remain by her bed. Even then, I hated every mile between us.
Nora drove. At Mom's house, two men carried boxes through the front door. A contractor was measuring the porch.
"Stop," I called. "Nobody is moving another thing."
Grant emerged in a camel-colored coat, holding a clipboard like it was a badge.
"You have no authority here, Ethan. Your mother signed a contract."
"She didn't sign away her home."
"Prove it."
Nora stepped onto the porch. "I've filed an emergency motion to preserve the property. Until the court rules, anything you remove may become evidence."
Grant smiled thinly. "Threats from a grieving family. Very compelling."
I saw my father's old toolbox in an open carton. I remembered him teaching me to repair a leaking faucet while Mom laughed at us for flooding the kitchen.
"Put that back," I said.
Grant looked at my hands. "Careful. You've already hurt one person this week."
I wanted to punch him. Instead I took three steps backward. If I lost control again, he would turn it into another weapon.
Nora photographed the boxes and the locks. Then she called Ortiz and showed her the contract date: May 3.
"Mom was at St. Luke's that day," I said suddenly. "She had that episode with her breathing. I was there from breakfast until late."
Nora turned toward me. "Are you certain?"
"I bought her flowers in the hospital gift shop. Claire made fun of me for bringing lilies to a woman who hated their smell."
"If she was there when this was supposedly notarized, we have a start."
Ortiz called back ten minutes later. Her voice was sharp.
"I verified the admission record. Your mother entered the emergency department at 7:14 that morning and stayed overnight. The contract says she signed in Grant's downtown office at 2:00 p.m."
May you like
I looked at Grant through the windshield.
For the first time, his smile was gone.
