I kept staring at the forged signature while the lawyer explained something about “amended filings,” but I barely heard him. All I could think was: Sarah planned this.
Then he quietly slid another paper across the desk.
A receipt.
The pearl necklace had been sold three months before Grandma even passed away.
I felt sick.
When I asked who approved the sale, the lawyer looked uncomfortable and said, “According to the documents… your grandmother did.”
But the date on the form was impossible. Grandma was already in the hospital that week, heavily medicated and unable to even hold a pen steadily.
I drove straight to Sarah’s house after that. Her car was in the driveway, but when she opened the door and saw the papers in my hand, her face changed completely.
Not guilty. Not scared.
Panicked.
Then she whispered something I still can’t stop thinking about:
“You weren’t supposed to find out until after the house sold.