Chapter 2
I did not sleep.
At 5:12 in the morning, I called my older brother, Nathan.
He answered on the second ring.
“Clara?”
The sound of his voice broke something loose in me.
I told him everything.
Leo’s funeral.
Julian.
Chloe.
The house.
The deed.
Nathan was silent for so long I thought the call had dropped.
Then he said, “Do not go back there alone.”
“I need Leo’s things.”
“You need a lawyer first.”
“I have the deed.”
“You have a deed and a husband who just tried to throw you out of property he doesn’t own. That means he either doesn’t know, or he thinks he already changed something.”
My stomach turned.
“He asked about my documents.”
“I’m coming to Austin.”
“Nathan, you’re in Denver.”
“I’m packing while we talk.”
After we hung up, I opened my laptop.
I pulled up county records.
My hands shook so badly I typed my own name wrong twice.
The house still showed my name.
But beneath it was a pending filing.
A transfer document.
Submitted two days before Leo died.
I clicked it.
A scanned page loaded.
My signature was at the bottom.
Only it was not mine.
It looked close.
Too close.
The document claimed I had agreed to add Julian as joint owner.
My mouth went dry.
The notary stamp belonged to Chloe Bennett.
My best friend.
I ran to the bathroom and threw up.
When I came back, my phone had twelve missed calls from Julian.
Then Chloe called.
I stared at her name until it stopped ringing.
A message appeared.
Clara, please don’t make this ugly. Julian is grieving too.
I laughed so hard it scared me.
Then another message.
You signed the papers. Don’t pretend you forgot.
I took screenshots.
Every one.
At 7:40, a woman knocked on my hotel room door.
I froze.
“Mrs. Sterling?” a voice called.
I looked through the peephole.
A hotel employee stood there with an envelope.
I cracked the door with the security latch on.
“Yes?”
“This was left for you at the desk.”
“By who?”
“A man. He said it was urgent.”
I took the envelope and locked every latch.
Inside was a copy of Leo’s death certificate.
Someone had circled the cause of death in red pen.
Cardiac arrest due to congenital complications.
Under it, in block letters, someone had written:
ASK WHY HIS TRANSFER WAS CANCELED.
My knees weakened.
Transfer.
Leo had been waiting for a heart transplant.
Three days before he died, Julian told me the hospital had removed him from the list because he was too weak.
I had begged doctors.
I had screamed into pillows.
I had believed them because grief makes you believe anyone wearing a badge, a coat, or a calm voice.
I called Leo’s cardiologist.
The receptionist put me on hold.
Then a nurse came on.
“Mrs. Whitmore, I’m sorry, Dr. Hayes is unavailable.”
“This is urgent.”
“I understand.”
“Was my son taken off the transplant list?”
The nurse went quiet.
“Ma’am, I can’t discuss records without proper authorization.”
“I’m his mother.”
“I know.”
Her voice softened.
Then she whispered, “Request the full file in writing. Today.”
The line clicked dead.
I sat there staring at the phone.
Then Julian texted.
Where are you?
May you like
A second later:
Do not contact the hospital.
