“I am going to send you a photo and I want you to tell me if that signature is actually yours,” I said. Thirty seconds after I sent the image, he called me back sounding absolutely devastated.
Part 3
“That is not my signature, Mom,” Peter said with a trembling voice. I knew my son well enough to know he was telling the truth.
“Did you know anything about this at all?” I asked him. “I swear I didn’t, though Tiffany mentioned fixing the house situation months ago to secure the kids’ future,” he explained.
“She also changed the locks on me,” I added. I heard him mutter a curse under his breath before promising to talk to her immediately.
I did not sleep at all that night. At eleven thirty, he called me again to tell me that Tiffany had confessed to everything.
She admitted she had used a shady manager to prepare the document and forge both of our signatures. She thought if she managed to register the transfer, it would be easier to convince me that the house belonged to everyone.
Her justification was that I was already old and didn’t need a beach house, so she was just protecting the family heritage before I lost my mind. It wasn’t just greed; it was a total contempt for my existence.