The email thanked him for preliminary discussions regarding a credit facility.
It referenced “real estate support documentation” and an expected appraisal.
My stomach dropped.
“He was trying to borrow against my house.”
Phoebe held up a hand.
“Possibly. We don’t have enough information to say that yet.”
“Why else appraise it?”
“There are several reasons.”
“Name one good one.”
She didn’t.
Anika spoke instead.
“The important thing is that an appraisal doesn’t give him ownership. A conversation with a bank doesn’t create a lien. Nothing we’ve reviewed suggests your title was altered.”
I breathed slowly.
“So nothing happened.”
Phoebe’s expression was careful.
“Nothing completed.”
There was a difference.
A very important difference.
I looked again at the email.
Near the bottom was a reference to an attached authorization package.
“Where’s the attachment?”
Phoebe and Anika exchanged a glance.
“What?”
Phoebe opened another file.
“We were waiting until we had you sitting down.”
“I am sitting.”
She turned the laptop toward me.
The document looked ordinary.
Four pages.
Financial disclosures.
Property description.
Authorization for valuation.
I skimmed the first page.
Then the second.
On the third page was my name.
Jessica Vale Moretti.
Below it was a signature.
Mine.
At least, it looked like mine.
Evelyn leaned closer.
“Did you sign that?”
“I don’t know.”
Phoebe studied me.
“You need to be certain.”
“I signed dozens of documents during the last month of pregnancy. Hospital forms. Insurance forms. Estate updates. Pediatric paperwork.”
“This is dated four days before you delivered.”
I stared at the date.
