I searched on her social media using the computer. It was not difficult to find him. Dave Fuentes, architect, partner in a real estate agency, married with two children. Jessica was not only stealing my house, she was cheating on my son with a man who was surely helping her sell properties.
But there was something else in that box. Bank documents, account statements, a loan in my name for $18,000 that I never authorized. My signature forged. Or maybe I signed without realizing, trusting, believing it was another favor.
I photographed everything with my cell phone. Sam, my grandson, had taught me how to use the camera and send photos by WhatsApp. Grandma, you just press here and it saves to your gallery. I saved every piece of evidence meticulously.
The letters, the photos, the bank documents, everything in a manila envelope that I hid in the safest place I knew. Inside the mattress of my bed, in a slit I made with my sewing scissors. I called Leo that night. Nephew, I found something. something that changes everything.
I sent him the photos. I heard his ragged breathing on the other end of the line. This is aunt. This is enough to sue for fraud, for forgery.
Jessica could go to jail, I know, I said with a calm voice. But we are not going to use these letters yet. We will keep them for the exact moment. What moment when the time comes for both of them to look into the eyes of the person they thought was defeated?
When they are sure they won, that is when I will show them who I really am. Leo remained silent. Then he said something I will never forget. Aunt my mom would be proud of you.
And I know Uncle Arthur is too. I hung up and sat in the darkness of my room. The evidence was stored. The plan was in motion.
Leo owned my house legally. I had the right to stay by contract. Now only one thing was missing. that Ryan and Jessica discover that the house of cards they built with my tears was about to collapse and I would have a front row seat to watch it fall.
February 1st, the deadline they gave me. Ryan arrived at 9:00 in the morning with Jessica. I was waiting for them in the living room drinking coffee calm. Mom, what are you still doing here?
Ryan seemed genuinely confused. We said one month. Oh son, I have looked, but I cannot find a place that I can afford with my pension. Give me a little more time.
Jessica huffed. Ma’am, this is irresponsible. The buyers are going to want to enter soon. Well, let them wait, I said with poison sweetness.
I cannot find where to go. They left annoyed. I stayed smiling into my coffee cup. March.
Ryan called every week. Did you find something already, Mom? Always the same question. Always my same answer.
I am still looking. In April, they came together. This time, Jessica lost her composure. Enough.
This is ridiculous. You are 2 months late, she was shouting in my living room with her finger pointing at me. You cannot continue here. This house is no longer yours.
Ryan tried to calm her down. Jessica, please. No. Your mother is sabotaging us.
Do you not see it? The company from the north is asking why they cannot take possession. They can sue us. I remained seated knitting a sweater for Emma.
I did not even look up. They can sue whatever they want. I still have not found where to leave. Jessica was red with fury.
You are selfish, an old woman who only thinks about herself. Those words should have hurt me months ago. They would have destroyed me. But now they just made me laugh on the inside. because she did not know.
Neither of them knew. “Honey,” I finally said, looking up from my knitting. “This is my house. I have been here 40 years.
I will not leave until I am ready.” They left, slamming the door. I heard Jessica yelling at Ryan in the street. “Your mother is crazy. Do something.”
May arrived with heat and with their desperation growing like weeds. Ryan came alone on a Tuesday afternoon. He looked haggarded. Dark circles.
He had lost weight. Mom, please. He was almost begging. The people from the north are pressuring.
They say if you do not hand over the house soon, they will sue us for breach of contract. We could lose the money. Ah, there it was. The fear.
And where do you want me to go, Ryan? My voice was still wrapped in velvet. To the street to a nursing home. Is that what you want for your mother?
No. But mom, four months have passed. You had to have found something. Well, I did not find anything.
And if the buyers have a problem, let them come talk to me. Ryan ran his hands through his hair. You cannot do this. Legally?
Legally? What, son? I looked him straight in the eyes. Are you going to kick me out by force?
Are you going to bring police to evict your mother? Do it. I want to see if you have the stomach for that much. He left without saying anything else.
But I saw something in his eyes. Maybe a hint of guilt. Maybe it was just my imagination. The days passed and I kept my routine.
I watered the plants, cleaned the house, cooked for myself. Eleanor came to visit me every afternoon and we laughed at the situation. My friend, you have them going crazy, she said between laughs. That is the idea.
Leo called me every week. Aunt, are you sure about continuing with this? I can pressure them from my side as the buyer. Not yet.
Let them get more desperate. When they are on the verge of collapse, that is where you appear. It was a chess game, and I had learned that patience was my best weapon.
One afternoon at the end of May, I saw Jessica standing in front of my house. She was alone. She was just looking at the walls. I saw her take out her cell phone and take photos.
Then she left. That night, I could not sleep thinking about her face. There was desperation, but there was also something else. Calculation.
She was planning something. 2 days later on May 20th, Ryan sent a WhatsApp message. Mom, the buyers are very upset. Please, I need you to leave this week. I did not respond.
Three days passed.
On June 24th, exactly 6 months after that cursed Christmas, the message I was waiting for arrived. Why are you still there? The company is pressuring us. Mom, you are going to get us in trouble.
Enough already. And I, sitting in the living room of my house, laughed. because they had no idea who had bought the property nor what was about to come.
Ryan’s message arrived at 10 in the morning. I read it three times. Every word distilled desperation. Mom, I need you to come to our house tomorrow.
We have to talk seriously. This can no longer continue like this. The buyers are furious. Half an hour later, Jessica also wrote, “First time she contacted me directly in months.
Mrs. Amy, this is already ridiculous. You can get us in serious legal trouble. Please have some consideration.
Consideration. What an interesting word coming from the woman who planned to steal everything from me. I took my cell phone and called Leo. Nephew, the moment has arrived.
Come to town tomorrow at 4 in the afternoon. Bring Mr. Stevens with you. Are you ready, Auntie?
I looked at myself in the hallway mirror. I saw a 67-year-old woman with gray hair that I no longer dyed wrinkles that told stories and eyes that had cried rivers, but now shown with determination. More than ready, I replied to Leo. I am not going to your house.
If you want to talk, come to the house tomorrow at 4 in the afternoon. I will be waiting for you. There was a long silence on the phone. Then, okay.
That night, I could not sleep. Not out of fear, but out of anticipation. I opened my closet and took out my ivory embroidered blouse, the one Arthur had given me on our 30th anniversary. I tried it on.
It still fit perfectly. I made coffee. I cleaned the house until it sparkled. I put fresh flowers on the dining table.
I took out the porcelain cups with the orange flowers that we only used for special occasions. This was one of them. My friend Eleanor arrived at 2:00 in the afternoon. Do you need me to stay, honey?
No, but thank you. I have to do this alone. She hugged me tight. Your Arthur is watching over you from above, and he is proud.
Leo and Mr. Stevens arrived at 3:30. They carried a black briefcase full of documents. I showed them in.
I served them coffee. We reviewed every detail of the plan one last time. “Are you sure you want to do it this way, Amelia?” Mr. Stevens asked.
“It is going to hurt everyone.” “I know, but it is necessary.”
