PART 2

By the fifth week, the financial requests became more direct.

“The utilities are higher now,” Norma said. “It makes sense for you to contribute.”

So I did.

“The groceries cost more with three people,” she said. “Since you eat dinner here, you should cover a larger share.”

So I adjusted.

“The gutters need replacing this fall,” she said. “Daniel has always handled things like this, but he is busy.”

So I paid.

Each request sounded reasonable on its own. That was the trap.

Only when I started keeping a notebook did the pattern become clear.

In seven weeks, I had contributed more money to that house than Daniel and Norma combined.

For a house I did not own.

One Thursday in October, I went to the county recorder’s office during lunch. I pulled the property records and read them the way I read financial documents at work.

Daniel Mercer and Norma Mercer were listed as joint owners.

No liens.

No complications.

No other names.

Certainly not mine.

I sat in my car for a long time with the printed deed in my hands.

Then, three days later, I accidentally left my phone recording.

I had used a voice memo app for a work call and forgotten to stop it. When I later played it back, I heard voices from downstairs.

Daniel’s.

Norma’s.

The audio was not perfect, but the words were clear enough.