🔥 PART 2 — THE NEXT MORNING, I MADE ONE PHONE CALL ABOUT THE HOUSE. WHAT I LEARNED MADE ME REALIZE JULIAN HADN’T KICKED ME OUT FOR HIS MISTRESS.

I barely slept.

Leo’s pH๏τograph sat on the nightstand beside me all night.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the cemetery.

The tiny casket.

The damp earth.

My husband’s cold expression.

And the words that kept repeating in my head:

“You have two days to get your things out of my house.”

His house.

That phrase suddenly sounded different.

At seven the next morning, I opened the folder again.

I read the deed from beginning to end.

Clara Sterling.

Sole owner.

Purchased six years before my marriage.

No Julian.

No Chloe.

No joint ownership.

Nothing.

Then I remembered those strange questions Julian had been asking while Leo was in the hospital.

“Where are the original property documents?”

“Do you keep the deed in a safe?”

“Have you ever considered putting the house into a trust?”

At the time, I had been too consumed by Leo’s illness to question him.

Now every question felt deliberate.

I called the тιтle company listed on the deed.

A woman named Margaret answered.

I explained that I was the property owner and asked whether any recent documents had been filed concerning my house.

There was a pause.

Then Margaret said something that made my stomach тιԍнтen.

“Mrs. Sterling… are you sure you haven’t authorized a recent transfer?”

“No.”

Another pause.

“Because we received a request involving your property.”

My heart began pounding.

“What kind of request?”

“A request to verify ownership and prepare documents related to a sale.”

I sat completely still.

“A sale?”

“Yes.”

“Who submitted it?”

Margaret hesitated.

“I’m not sure I’m permitted to discuss that over the phone without verifying your idenтιтy.”

I gave her everything she needed.

After a few minutes, she returned to the call.

“Mrs. Sterling… the request was submitted through an attorney.”

“Whose attorney?”

Margaret read the name.

It was the attorney Julian had used for our estate paperwork.

I couldn’t breathe.

Julian hadn’t simply wanted me out of the house.

He had been preparing something.

Something involving my property.

And he had apparently been doing it while our son was dying.

I immediately called the attorney’s office.

The receptionist told me the attorney was unavailable.

“I need to know whether my husband has submitted anything concerning my property.”

She became unusually quiet.

“Mrs. Sterling, I think you should speak directly with the attorney.”

“Why?”

Another pause.

Then she said:

“Because there is a pending document that requires your signature.”

My hands went cold.

“What document?”

She lowered her voice.

“A transfer authorization.”

I stared at Leo’s pH๏τograph.

Someone had been preparing to transfer my house.

Without my permission.

And suddenly, Julian’s rush to get me out made perfect sense.

He didn’t want me to pack.

He wanted me gone.

Because if I stayed in that house long enough to discover what was happening, his entire plan could collapse.

But there was something else I still couldn’t understand.

Why would Julian risk everything to get control of a house he knew legally belonged to me?

Then Margaret called me back.

Her voice was different this time.

“Mrs. Sterling… there’s one more thing.”

“What?”

“The documents weren’t submitted by your husband.”

My heart stopped.

“Then who submitted them?”

She gave me the name.

Chloe.

I stared at the phone.

Chloe.

My best friend.

The woman who had been beside me during Leo’s final days.

The woman who was now carrying my husband’s child.

And suddenly, I understood.

This had never been just about Julian leaving me for another woman.

They had both been trying to get something from me.

But I still didn’t know why.

Then my phone buzzed.

A message from an unknown number appeared on the screen:

“Clara, don’t sign anything. Leo’s death wasn’t what they told you.”

I stopped breathing.

Because whoever sent that message knew something I didn’t.

Something about my son.

Something about the hospital.

And something that could explain why Julian had been so desperate to get me out of my own house.