Three Baby Cribs and a Missing Set of Car Keys
“They are growing fast,” I said, opening the blue folder on my lap to reveal the deed. “I brought the paperwork for my grandmother’s house on Elm Lane. It was left to me in her will three years ago.”
I reached across the desk and handed the yellowed document to her. Evelyn took it, her fingers turning the pages with an experienced, light touch that suggested she had handled thousands of these deeds.
She scanned the legal description at the top of the first page, her pen hovering just above her notepad but not touching the paper. She turned to the signature page, her eyes lingering on the notary’s stamp.
“The property is in your name alone,” Evelyn said, her voice dropping into a professional register. “It was never commingled with marital assets, and your husband’s name does not appear anywhere on this deed or the transfer tax records.”
“We never lived there because the house needed too many repairs,” I said, looking down at the gold ring on my finger. “We stayed in the suburban house because Ryan wanted the space. I need to know if I can legally move the babies there without him stopping me.”
