And suddenly the pregnancy wasn’t the only secret sitting between us.
PART 3 — The porch camera exposed the deal they thought completely invisible
Wednesday morning, Graham drove me to my attorney’s office.
I hadn’t slept much.
A branch still blocked part of the driveway, and my phone had buzzed all night with messages from Paige.
I ignored every one.
My attorney, Miriam Foster, was sixty-one, wore bright red reading glasses, and had handled Dad’s estate.
She remembered the house.
More importantly, she remembered the deed.
“Celia owns it,” she said after examining the records. “The recorded chain of title supports that. Frank never acquired an ownership interest through your marriage.”
She turned to Graham.
“And you never witnessed this transfer?”
“No, ma’am.”
“Good. I’d like a signed statement.”
Then she looked at the questionable document.
“Until we know exactly what was submitted and to whom, nobody is signing anything else.”
