Mom’s mouth fell open as if she had never seen my name written anywhere before. Ashley stepped back and bumped into a porch chair. “Grandma promised me,” she whispered. Momand baby
“No,” I said. “Grandma promised you nothing. She let you visit because she loved you. That’s different from giving you a house.”
A black sedan pulled in behind the sheriff’s cars. My attorney, Melissa Grant, stepped out carrying a folder so thick it looked like a phone book. She walked directly to the deputies and introduced herself.
Melissa opened the folder on the hood of her car. “We have evidence of unlawful occupancy, rental income collected from a property my client owns, forged estate paperwork, and attempts to change the utility account using false authorization.”
Dad’s anger cracked into panic. “This is family business.”
Melissa looked at him. “Fraud is not family business.”
The deputies asked Ashley for identification. Her hands shook as she dug through her purse. Mom began crying, saying everyone was overreacting, that Ashley had only been “keeping the house safe.”
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