The mediator spoke again.
“Furthermore, I am forwarding copies of all this evidence to the district attorney to evaluate whether criminal charges for fraud and forgery are appropriate. Mrs. Vance, do you wish to press formal charges?”
All eyes were fixed on me. This was the moment: the moment to decide if I wanted complete justice or if there was still something of a mother in me willing to forgive. I looked at Harper with her eyes full of crocodile tears. I looked at Caleb with his expression of a misunderstood victim. And I knew the answer.
“Yes,” I said with a firm voice. “I wish to press formal charges against both of them.”
Harper collapsed in her chair. Caleb went pale. Their lawyers started packing their things quickly, clearly wanting to distance themselves from the disaster.
The mediator signed several documents.
“This hearing is concluded. The defendants will be formally notified of the charges against them. I suggest you get good criminal defense lawyers because you are going to need them.”
We left that room in silence. In the hallway, Margaret hugged me tight.
“You did it, Elleanor. You really did it.”
James smiled with professional satisfaction.
“That was perfect. The evidence was devastating.”
But I did not feel triumph yet. I felt a strange emptiness. I had waited for this moment for so long, and now that it had arrived, I felt strangely calm. Behind us, I heard the hurried steps of Harper and Caleb leaving the building. I did not turn to look at them. There was nothing more to say.
The black folder rested under my arm. It had fulfilled its purpose, but the story hadn’t ended yet. The final act was still missing.
The following days were strange. I expected to feel relieved after the preliminary hearing. But instead, I felt a mix of emotions I couldn’t name. I had won the legal battle. I had exposed my children. I had protected my assets. But I had also lost something I would never get back.
James called me three days after the preliminary hearing.
“Elleanor, I need you to come to my office. Things have happened.”
I arrived that afternoon with Margaret. James had documents scattered over his desk and an expression I couldn’t completely decipher. There was some satisfaction, but also concern.
“Sit down,” he said, pointing to the chairs in front of his desk. “I have good news and news that is going to make you angry.”
“Let’s start with the bad,” I said, bracing myself.
“The DA reviewed the evidence we presented and decided to proceed with the charges.”
“That’s good.”
“But during the investigation, they discovered something else.”
James pulled out a new folder.
“Harper and Caleb didn’t just try to defraud you. They also forged documents to obtain a loan using your house as collateral without your knowledge.”
I froze.
“What?”
“About a year ago,” continued James, “the two of them partnered up and submitted documents to a private lender requesting a loan of $200,000. They used your property as collateral, forged your signature on all the documents, and even paid someone to impersonate you on a verification video call.”
Margaret exploded.
“Those bastards.”
“$200,000. The loan was approved,” James went on. “They received the money but never made a single payment. The bank started foreclosure proceedings against your property six months ago. You never knew because they intercepted all the bank’s correspondence.”
I felt like the floor was moving under my feet.
“My house. They were going to take my house for a debt I didn’t even know existed. How did they intercept my mail?” I asked with a trembling voice.
“Caleb had a key to your house,” remembered Margaret. “He lived with you for years. He probably never gave it back.”
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