Marine Returns From Okinawa to Find Her Bungalow Already Sold
“A loan requires two people to agree,” I said. “You signed my name on a forged power of attorney.”
“It was for the family,” he repeated, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. “Chad would have lost his truck. They were going to take his tools.”
I looked at the greasy plate of toast between us. “The bank portal says my mortgage is cleared, but the house belongs to a schoolteacher now.”
“She got a good deal,” he said, his voice turning cold. “She is happy there. You have the barracks, Maria. You have the military to take care of you.”
“I built that porch swing with my own hands, Dad.”
He reached for his coffee mug again but stopped, his hand hovering over the handle. “Twenty thousand is all I have left. Take it, and we can put this behind us.”
“Who gave you the notary stamp?” I asked.
He pulled his hand back and slid it into his pocket. “I am not talking about that.”
“Then we are finished here,” I said.