«We can get the house back immediately, Mrs. Brooks, and we can also proceed with legal action against your daughter for fraud.»
«No, Mr. Peterson, I don’t want to proceed with legal action. I want to do this another way. I want everything to remain a secret for now. Can you help me?»
He looked at me with curiosity, but he nodded. «Of course. You are my client. What do you need?»
«I need you to discreetly get the beach house back, do what is necessary to nullify that fraudulent sale, and I need you to help me gain real control of all my properties, especially the building where my daughter lives.»
«I understand. It will be a process that takes a few weeks, but it’s completely feasible.»
«Perfect. And, Mr. Peterson, I need no one to know I am behind all of this, at least for now.»
When I left his office, I felt as if I had woken up from a very long dream. I walked through the downtown streets, watching the people, the buildings, the life that was going on as normal, but for me, everything had changed. I had a plan.
The following weeks were the strangest of my life. Officially, I was a poor widow who had been abandoned by her daughter, but in secret, I was a rich woman silently orchestrating the recovery of my assets. Mr. Peterson worked efficiently, and every few days, he would call me with updates on the progress of the legal proceedings.
I decided to stay in my house for the time being. It was mine, after all, although Angela probably expected me to move into a single room. Every morning, I would wake up, have breakfast at the same table where Robert and I had shared so many years, and then go for a walk in the neighborhood.
The neighbors would greet me with that mix of pity and curiosity they reserved for recent widows. Aurora, my lifelong neighbor, came up to me one afternoon while I was watering the plants in the front. «Antonia, dear, is it true that Angela went to Europe and left you all alone?»
«Yes, Aurora. She went with Edward. They have business plans over there.»
«And how are you going to live, sweetie? We all know Robert didn’t leave much money.»
If you only knew, I thought. «Don’t worry, Aurora. I’ll be fine.»
«Do you need anything? I can bring you some food, help you with groceries.»
«You’re very kind, but I’m fine, really.»
Aurora looked at me with that expression I knew well. It was the same look I had received after the funeral, compassion mixed with a little relief that it wasn’t her tragedy. «Well, you know where to find me if you need anything.»
These conversations were constantly repeated. The butcher, the baker, the lady at the corner store, everyone spoke to me with that soft tone they use with the unfortunate. And I would nod, smile, and thank them for their concern. But inside, a part of me enjoyed this performance. It was like living a double life.
Mr. Peterson called me one Wednesday morning. «Mrs. Brooks, I have good news. I was able to nullify the sale of the beach house. The buyers didn’t know the sale was fraudulent, so they got their money back without any problems. The house is yours again.»
«Excellent, Mr. Peterson. And the building where Angela lives?»
«That one is more complicated. Technically, you’ve always been the owner through the company, but we need to make some administrative changes so that you have direct control. That should take another two weeks.»
«Perfect. Keep me informed.»
After hanging up, I sat in the kitchen with my coffee and thought about Angela. She had been in Europe for three weeks, and I hadn’t heard anything from her. Not a call, not a message, not even a postcard. To her, I had ceased to exist the moment she got the money she needed, but I knew that was going to change soon.
I decided to visit the beach house. I took the bus to the coast, the same route Robert and I had taken hundreds of times. The house was exactly as I remembered it, small, painted cream-colored, with a porch overlooking the ocean. The new owners had put some potted plants on the steps, but other than that, everything was the same.
I sat on the curb across the street and looked at it for an hour. I remembered summer afternoons when Angela was little, running on the beach and building sandcastles, Robert grilling fish on the barbecue while I made salads in the kitchen. Angela bringing friends, then boyfriends, then Edward, all those happy moments that she had reduced to a simple commercial transaction.
An older gentleman came out of the house and saw me sitting there. He approached me with curiosity. «Are you okay, ma’am?»
«Yes, thank you. I’m just remembering. I knew the former owners.»
«What a shame about what happened. They told us the elderly lady was very sick and needed to sell fast. We thought it was a steal, but it turns out the sale wasn’t legal. We had to give the house back.»
«Did you know them personally?»
«No. We did everything through intermediaries, but they told us the daughter was handling everything because the mother couldn’t. What a sad situation.»
If you only knew how sad it really was, I thought. «Well, I’m glad you didn’t lose your money.»
«Yes, luckily everything worked out well, although now we have to look for another house. We liked this one a lot.»
I left there with a heavy heart. It wasn’t just the money that hurt. It was the ease with which Angela had lied about me. She had made up a story about my illness. She had used my supposed vulnerability to justify her actions. To her, I wasn’t a person with feelings but an obstacle that had to be removed.
That night, I called Mr. Peterson again. «Mr. Peterson, I need you to help me with something else. I want to get Robert’s truck back, too.»
«That will be more difficult, Mrs. Brooks. The truck was in your name, but your daughter had a power of attorney that allowed her to sell it.»
«How is that possible?»
«Apparently, you signed that power of attorney a few months ago, after your husband’s death. Don’t you remember?»
There it was, the moment Angela had started planning all of this. I vaguely remembered signing some papers she had brought to me, telling me they were to facilitate the funeral and inheritance arrangements. I had been so confused by grief that I signed without reading. How naive I had been.
«I understand, Mr. Peterson. Is there any way to get it back?»
«We can try, but it will be more complicated. We would need to prove that you signed that power of attorney under deception or coercion.»
«Let’s do it. I want to get back everything they took from me.»
Over the next few weeks, I developed a strange routine. In the mornings, I was the poor widow everyone knew. I would go out to buy necessities, talk to the neighbors, and keep up appearances. But in the afternoons, I became a businesswoman. I would study Robert’s documents, talk to Mr. Peterson, and plan my next move.
I learned things about finance I never thought I would need to know. I discovered that Robert had been much smarter than I thought. Every one of his investments had been carefully calculated. The building where Angela lived, for example, wasn’t just profitable from rent. It was in an area that was rapidly appreciating.
I also discovered that Edward, Angela’s husband, had a lot of debt. He had taken out loans using the apartment they lived in as collateral, not knowing he wasn’t the real owner. When the banks figured this out, he was going to be in serious trouble.
Mr. Peterson called me one Friday with important news. «Mrs. Brooks, we’ve finished all the paperwork. You now have total control of all your properties. I also got Robert’s truck back. The buyer turned out to be an acquaintance of mine, and when I explained the situation, he agreed to return it in exchange for a small compensation.»
«Excellent work, Mr. Peterson. Now I need you to help me with one more thing. I want you to send a letter to my daughter.»
«What kind of letter?»
«An eviction notice.»
There was silence on the other end of the line. «Mrs. Brooks, are you sure you want to do this?»
«Completely sure. She decided I wasn’t important in her life. Now she’s going to find out how important I really am.»
«I understand. Do you want me to send it to Europe?»
«No. I want you to give it to her when she gets back. I have a feeling it’s going to be very soon.»
I wasn’t wrong. That same afternoon, Aurora came running to my house with fresh neighborhood news. «Antonia, did you know that Edward is in trouble with the bank? My brother-in-law who works there told me they’re investigating some loans he took out using the apartment they live in as collateral, but it turns out the apartment isn’t his.»
«Really?»
«Yes. And it seems Angela didn’t know anything. They’re saying she’s going to have to come back from Europe to sort out this mess. What a complicated situation.»
«Yes, and the worst part is, apparently, Edward lied to her about the business in Europe. There was no business. He just wanted to escape the debts he had here.»
Perfect. Everything was working out exactly as I had expected. Angela had trusted Edward, had sacrificed her relationship with me for him, and now she was discovering that he wasn’t the man she thought he was.
That night, I sat on the porch with a cup of tea and looked at the stars. Robert used to say that the stars were the souls of people who had lived a full life, watching over their families from the sky. If that was true, then he was up there watching his plan unfold perfectly.
«Thank you, my love,» I said to the sky. «Thank you for taking care of me, even after your death.»
The next day, Mr. Peterson called me early. «Mrs. Brooks, I have some news. Your daughter just arrived in the country. She’s at the airport alone.»
«Alone?»
«Yes, apparently, Edward stayed in Europe. There are rumors they had a very big fight.»
«I see. Did you send the letter?»
«I’m going to send it today. She should receive it tomorrow.»
I hung up the phone and stood there in the kitchen, feeling a mix of nervousness and anticipation. After so many weeks of silent planning, the moment for the first real move had finally arrived. Angela was about to discover that her mother was not the defenseless victim she believed.
Angela arrived at her apartment on Tuesday night. I knew this because Aurora, who seemed to have informants throughout the neighborhood, came to tell me the next day. «Antonia, your daughter came back last night. I saw her go in with one suitcase, but she looked terrible, pale, with dark circles under her eyes, as if she had been crying the whole flight, alone, completely alone.»
«And something strange, Antonia. When the doorman asked her for the keys, she didn’t have them. She had to ask the superintendent to let her in with the emergency copy.»
Interesting. Edward had the keys, which meant he had probably decided not to come back. Or maybe Angela had discovered something about him and had fled. In any case, my daughter was back, and very soon she would receive my little welcome gift.
Mr. Peterson called me that same afternoon. «Mrs. Brooks, the letter was delivered an hour ago. The doorman confirmed that your daughter received it in person.»
«Perfect. How long did we give her?»
«Thirty days to vacate the apartment as per legal standards. But Mrs. Brooks, are you sure you want to do this? She is your daughter, after all.»
«Mr. Peterson, my daughter kicked me out of my own house with a two-minute phone call. She sold my things without asking. She treated me like garbage. Now she’s going to learn that actions have consequences.»
«I understand. I just wanted to make sure you had considered all the implications.»
«I have considered them, Mr. Peterson, all of them.»
That night, I couldn’t sleep. I stayed awake imagining Angela’s face when she read the letter. The initial confusion, then the disbelief, then the panic. She would probably think it was a mistake that someone was trying to scam her. But when she called to verify, she would discover that everything was completely legal.
The next day, as if she had been waiting for my call, the phone rang at eight in the morning. It was Angela, and her voice sounded desperate. «Mom, Mom, I need to talk to you urgently.»
«Good morning, honey. How was Europe?»
«Mom, I don’t have time for that right now. I received a very strange letter yesterday. It says I have to vacate my apartment in 30 days. It must be a mistake, right? Do you know anything about this?»
«An eviction notice. How strange. From whom?»
«From a company I’ve never heard of. It’s called, wait, let me find the letter. Robert Investments, Inc. Do you know this company?»
