“She gave verbal permission,” Ethan said.
“Verbal permission has no legal standing in a transaction of this kind.”
Attorney Moreno stood. “Your Honor, we submit the original deed. The property remained in the petitioner’s late husband’s name. There was never a lawful transfer to the son.”
The judge compared documents.
“Mr. Carter, can you explain why the property was never transferred to your name?”
Silence.
“Mr. Carter, I’m waiting.”
“I… didn’t know it was necessary.”
“You are a licensed physician. You want this court to believe you didn’t know legal requirements exist for selling real estate?”
Silence again.
“We will hear from the lawful owner,” the judge concluded. “Ms. Carter will testify.”
Outside, Ethan’s legs felt weak. He grabbed his phone—his mother’s number wasn’t there. He’d deleted it months ago.
He called old contacts from his hometown. Nothing. Another number disconnected.
Finally he tried the only name he remembered.
“Hello… this is Ethan Carter. Evelyn’s son. I need to know where my mother is.”
A pause.
“Now you care?” the man said flatly. “After you sold her home, nobody knew where she went.”
Click.
Linda received the court notice.