It was a preliminary property valuation.
My address was printed at the top.
Below it was an estimated market value of $785,000.
I stared at the figure.
"Why does he have a valuation of my house?"
"That's exactly what we're trying to establish."
Thomas explained that Michael had apparently been discussing a potential transaction involving my property. The proposed arrangement would have placed the house under a company connected to him after the false estate documentation was accepted.
The money would then have been distributed through several accounts.
I read the document again.
There was something written in the margin.
Vacant possession required.
I looked up.
"What does that mean?"
Thomas didn't answer immediately.
"It means the buyer expected the property to be empty."
For a moment, the room seemed to tilt.
They hadn't simply wanted my savings.
They wanted me out of my home.
And they had apparently been planning this while I was still sleeping in the bedroom Richard and I had shared for decades.
I put the document down.
"Did Daniel know about this?"
"We don't have a complete answer yet."
I walked to the window.
The maple tree outside was beginning to lose its leaves. Richard had planted it the year Daniel started elementary school.
I remembered the three of us standing in the garden, arguing about where it should go.
Daniel had wanted it closer to the driveway.
Richard insisted it needed room to grow.
Now the tree was taller than the roof.
And the little boy who had helped plant it had become part of a plan to take everything away from me.
"Thomas," I said quietly, "I want to protect this house."
"We will."
"Not because of the money."
"I understand."
"This is where my husband lived. This is where my son grew up. I refuse to let people turn it into a prize."
Thomas nodded.
"Then we'll make sure every step is handled properly."
That afternoon, I received another unexpected visitor.
It was Vanessa.
She arrived without calling, wearing sunglasses and carrying a large handbag.
I watched her through the window before opening the door.
"Eleanor," she said, forcing a smile. "We need to talk."
I remained in the doorway.
"About what?"
"Daniel."
I stepped aside, but I didn't offer her coffee.
She walked into the living room and looked around.
For a moment, her eyes settled on Richard's photograph above the fireplace.
Then she looked away.
"Daniel isn't doing well," she began. "He's barely sleeping. He's under enormous pressure."
I folded my hands.
"Then perhaps he should stop creating problems."
Her expression tightened.
"You're being unfair."
"Am I?"
"He's your only son."
I looked directly at her.
"And I am his only mother."
She took a breath.
"Eleanor, I know things got out of hand. But you have to understand that we were trying to protect the family."
I almost smiled.
"You keep using that word."
"What word?"
"Protect."
She sat down without being invited.
"Look, the paperwork was complicated. Michael was helping us understand the legal process. There were mistakes."
"Who made them?"
She looked at me.
"Everyone makes mistakes."
"Did you make a mistake when you discussed selling my house?"
Her face changed.
For the first time, she seemed unable to find the right words.
I continued.
"Did you make a mistake when you tried to redirect my bank statements? Was it another mistake when you told people I was incapable of making decisions?"
She stood up.
"Who has been telling you all this?"
"People who have seen the documents."
She looked toward the front door.
Then she said something I would never forget.
"You need to think about Lily. If this investigation continues, you're going to destroy her family."
I felt something inside me harden.
"Don't use my granddaughter to frighten me."
"I'm not frightening you."
"Then stop."
She grabbed her handbag.
Before leaving, she turned around.
"You think you're winning because you have an attorney. But you don't understand how these things work."
I opened the door.
"Perhaps. But I understand how betrayal works."
She walked away without another word.
That evening, Lily called.
"Grandma, Mom came home crying."
I sat down.
"I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"She said you were trying to send Dad to prison."
I closed my eyes.
"I haven't asked anyone to punish your father. I've only told the truth about what happened."
"Is Dad going to prison?"
"I don't know, Lily. That's something the authorities and the courts will have to determine."
She was quiet.
Then she asked, "Do you still love him?"
That question hurt more than anything Vanessa had said.
"Yes," I answered. "He's my son. I will always love him."
"Then why are you doing this?"
I took a slow breath.