Chapter 8 - Logan Finally Chose a Side
My brother had spent years surviving our family by staying soft, agreeable, and conveniently uninformed.
He was the last person I expected to become useful in a legal fight.
But guilt can make cowards unexpectedly brave.
Logan came over with another envelope three days later.
“I went back to Mom’s office while they were still out of town,” he said.
“You what?”
“You needed to know.”
Inside the envelope were copies of bank transfers.
Not my transfers to my parents.
Transfers from the account where they had been depositing my monthly “rent.”
Money moved regularly to pay off:
my father’s credit-card debt,
my mother’s boutique travel account,
and tuition support for Logan’s graduate program.
He looked ashamed when I reached that part.
“I didn’t know where it was coming from,” he said quickly. “I thought Dad had investments.”
I believed him.
Mostly because if Logan had known he was living off money skimmed from my house, he would have hidden better than this.
Then he handed me the last page.
A draft quitclaim deed.
Prepared but unsigned.
Transferor: Megan Hart.
Grantees: Diane and Stephen Hart, joint tenants.
Prepared two days after my accident.
My whole body went still.
“What is this?”
Logan swallowed.
“Mom had an appointment with a mobile notary for the day after you were supposed to be discharged.”
“She was going to make me sign over the house?”
He nodded.
“I think so.”
Suddenly the lies about me “not thinking clearly” sounded different.
May you like
Not defensive.
Preparatory.
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