Chapter 12 - The Offer in the Envelope
At the next meeting Eric brought an envelope marked SETTLEMENT.
He offered to abandon any claim to household furnishings and to cooperate with a divorce if I signed a release protecting him and Diane from civil claims arising from the attempted sale.
He also wanted me to withdraw my complaints.
Ruth read the proposal in silence.
"This asks Megan to certify facts she disputes," she said.
Eric's lawyer leaned back.
"We're trying to resolve a family situation."
"Then send a proposal that doesn't require my client to rewrite history."
I kept my hands folded under the table.
Part of me had wanted an apology.
Instead I had received an invoice for my own silence.
On the way home, Ruth showed me a document received through the lender's production process.
It contained an internal timeline for the transaction.
The anticipated transfer date was the day I left the hospital.
The pickup and possession plan was scheduled for my return.
Someone had made sure the timing was exact.
I pictured Eric watching me pack the hospital bag, kissing me before surgery, and promising to have the house ready when I brought Emma home.
All the while a mover had been penciled onto a calendar.
That afternoon I called my aunt Caroline, the only relative who had known how worried I'd been about Diane.
She arrived with groceries and offered to stay for a few nights.
I almost refused out of habit.
Then she took one look at my face and set down the bags.
"You don't have to earn help," she said.
I cried for the first time since the foyer.
Caroline held Emma while I slept three uninterrupted hours.
When I woke, there was a new voicemail from a man who identified himself as an investigator for the lender.
He asked whether I had authorized Eric to receive transaction proceeds.
I said I had not.
He paused.
"Mrs. Lawson, our records indicate that someone opened an escrow disbursement account using your identification."
I sat up slowly.
"How much money went through it?"
"I can't discuss the full account by phone," he said.
"But we need to verify whether the account was yours."
The impersonation had gone beyond a signature.
May you like
Someone had tried to become me on paper.
