Chapter 17 - Before the JudgeOn December twenty-third, we sat in a small county courtroom while the buyer's attorney insisted the sale was necessary to preserve a deteriorating property. He spoke about budgets, liability, and market value. Not once did he mention the children who had made paper birds there for thirteen years.
Naomi presented the conflicting signatures, the notarization complaints, the bank transfers, and Celia's certified trust. Dad testified that his supposed affidavit hadn't been signed by him. Grandma described her medical appointment on the day the notary claimed she'd visited his office.
Vanessa sat beside her lawyer and avoided my eyes. When questioned about the sale commission, she said she believed she had authority to act for the family. The judge did not decide whether she had committed fraud. That would require a fuller hearing and, potentially, a separate investigation.
But the judge found enough serious questions to stop the closing temporarily and prohibit disposal of the workshop inventory. A review would follow in January.
I had imagined triumph would feel warm. Instead, I felt exhausted. All we'd won was the right to keep fighting.
Outside the courthouse, Dad approached me without touching my arm. "I told Naomi about every debt," he said. "Even the one I hoped you'd never see."
"Good," I answered. "Do that because it's right. Not so I forgive you faster."
He nodded.
Grandma came down the steps carrying the green star in its padded box. "It's Christmas Eve tomorrow," she reminded me. "Whatever happens, I won't let that woman take one more holiday from us."
Then my phone rang. It was the storage manager.
May you like
"You need to come," he said. "Someone left a box at your unit overnight. Your mother's name is written all over it."
Related Stories
