So were two detectives.
Lorraine opened the door laughing.
“Oh, look who came crawling back.”
Behind her, Trevor lounged at my dining table. Daniel stood beside the fireplace and went pale when he saw the detectives.
I walked inside without raising my voice.
Lorraine pointed toward the kitchen. “Before another tantrum, you owe me for the broken lock.”
“No,” I said. “You owe me forty-eight thousand dollars.”
Trevor’s smile vanished.
One detective stepped forward. “Trevor Hale?”
He stood. “What is this?”
I placed the loan application, store statement, and security images on the table.
Daniel stared at them. “Claire… what am I looking at?”
“Your brother stole my tax documents, used my Social Security number, opened credit in my name, and tried to borrow forty-eight thousand dollars.”
Trevor pointed at me. “She’s lying.”
The detective said, “We’ll discuss that downtown.”
Lorraine moved between them. “He made a mistake! Families handle these things privately.”
I looked at her. “You locked food away from me in my house because you thought humiliation would make me easier to control. Meanwhile, you stood watch while your son stole my records.”
Her face went white.
“I never touched anything.”
I slid the retailer image toward her.
There she was beside Trevor at checkout.
For the first time in six weeks, Lorraine had nothing to say.
The process server handed her and Trevor their notices.
She turned toward Daniel. “Tell her we live here!”
Daniel swallowed. “Claire, please. We can work this out.”
