Chapter 7: The Secret Bryce Was Afraid to Tell
I read Bryce's message four times before answering.
Where are you?
His reply came almost immediately.
At the apartment. Don't tell Dad I'm talking to you.
I looked across Grandma's kitchen.
She was still holding the photograph of Grandpa beside the little house in Palisade.
“What did he say?”” she asked.
I showed her.
Her expression hardened.
“Your brother knows something.””
“Apparently.””
“Then we're going to find out what.””
I called Emmett.
He answered on the second ring.
“Halley?””
“Bryce says he has original paperwork about another property Grandpa owned.””
There was a pause.
“Did he say what paperwork?””
“No. He says Dad will blame me if he finds out.””
Emmett sighed.
“Don't meet your brother alone. I'll arrange to be present.””
“I think Bryce might refuse if he knows you're coming.””
“Then tell him you want to talk privately. I'll remain nearby.””
I agreed.
Grandma insisted on coming, but I persuaded her to stay home.
She had spent enough of the past forty-eight hours discovering things she should never have had to discover.
Before leaving, she handed me the photograph.
“Take this.””
I slipped it into my purse.
The little house was familiar.
It stood on three acres near the orchard, with white siding, a red metal roof, and an old apple tree in the backyard.
Grandpa had bought it when I was twelve.
He'd told Bryce and me that it was an investment property.
Sometimes he rented it to seasonal orchard workers.
Other times, he let families stay there while they searched for permanent housing.
I'd never known he intended it for us.
When I arrived at Bryce's apartment, he opened the door before I knocked.
He looked terrible.
His hair was uncombed, his eyes were red, and a half-eaten pizza sat on the coffee table.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hi.””
He stepped aside.
I entered.
“Where's Dad?””
“Work.””
“Does he know I'm here?””
“No.””
I looked around.
The apartment was expensive.
Floor-to-ceiling windows overlooked the parking garage. A large television occupied one wall, and a new gaming system sat beneath it.
Bryce followed my gaze.
“Yeah, I know what you're thinking.””
I said nothing.
He rubbed his forehead.
“Sit down.””
I remained standing.
“What happened to Grandpa's property?””
Bryce walked to the kitchen and returned with a thick envelope.
“I found this in Dad's office last year.””
He placed it on the table.
Inside were copies of a property deed, bank statements, and a document bearing Grandpa's signature.
The first deed showed ownership of the little house.
The owner was Elwood Overstreet.
The date was 2012.
The second document was a transfer agreement dated September 2021.
The property had supposedly been sold to a company called Mesa Valley Holdings.
I looked at the buyer's signature.
Daniel Overstreet.
My father's.
“Was Dad authorized to sell it?””
Bryce shook his head.
“Not that I know of.””
I turned the page.
The purchase price was $285,000.
But the next document showed something strange.
The property had been transferred for $10.
Ten dollars.
I looked at Bryce.
“Why?””
“I don't know.””
“Where did the $285,000 go?””
He lowered his eyes.
“That's the problem.””
I turned another page.
A bank statement showed a transfer of $285,000 from Mesa Valley Holdings into an account belonging to Overstreet RV Services.
I felt sick.
“Dad sold Grandpa's property to a company he controlled?””
Bryce nodded.
“That's what it looks like.””
I stared at the paperwork.
“Why didn't you tell anyone?””
“Because I was involved.””
The room seemed to go silent.
I slowly looked up.
“What?””
Bryce sat down.
“Dad asked me to sign some paperwork. He said it was for a property management arrangement.””
“You signed it?””
“I was twenty-three. I thought I was helping him.””
“What did you sign?””
He pulled out another document.
My brother's name appeared beneath a section labeled Authorized Company Representative.
He had signed on behalf of Mesa Valley Holdings.
I stared at him.
“You were the buyer?””
“I didn't know what the company was buying. Dad told me it was just a temporary arrangement.””
“Bryce.””
“I know.””
“You signed documents transferring Grandpa's property to a company controlled by Dad?””
He covered his face.
“I didn't understand what I was signing.””
I sat opposite him.
“Then why did you keep the documents?””
“Because six months later, Dad told me the house had been sold.””
I waited.
“He said the money was needed to save the business. I asked him why the paperwork listed me as the company representative.””
Bryce swallowed.
“He told me not to worry because Grandpa had approved everything before he died.””
I pointed to the deed.
“Grandpa didn't sell this property.””
“I know that now.””
“How?””
Bryce reached into the envelope and pulled out a second document.
It was a copy of an email.
The sender was Dad.
The recipient was an accountant associated with Mesa Valley Holdings.
The subject line read:
*PROPERTY TRANSFER — KEEP THE BENEFICIARY OFF THE PAPERWORK.*
I read the email.
Dad had instructed the accountant to use a company structure that would make the transfer appear unrelated to the family.
He'd also written:
The girls don't need to be involved. Halley will never ask about it, and Bryce will sign whatever I put in front of him.
I read that sentence again.
The girls.
He'd referred to us as though we were obstacles.
My brother looked away.
“I found it when I was looking for my tax documents.””
I closed the folder.
“Why didn't you tell Grandma?””
“Because Dad said he could make the problem disappear.””
“And you believed him?””
Bryce's voice cracked.
“I was scared.””
I stared at him.
He looked younger suddenly.
Not like the confident man who had posted vacation pictures while I worked double shifts.
He looked like the little boy who used to come into my room at night because he was afraid of thunderstorms.
“Halley, I know I should've told you.””
I didn't answer.
He continued.
“I knew about your loans. I knew Dad had taken the money. And I knew some of the trust money was paying for my school.””
My hands went cold.
“Some?””
He nodded.
“My tuition. My apartment. Part of my living expenses.””
I stared at him.
“How much?””
“I don't know the total.””
“Guess.””
He looked at the floor.
“Maybe sixty or seventy thousand.””
I couldn't breathe.
“And the rest?””
“Business loans. Equipment. Some personal expenses.””
I stood and walked toward the window.
For years, I'd believed Bryce was simply more fortunate.
I'd thought Dad had managed to find a way to afford his education.
I'd never realized that some of my future had been used to finance his present.
“Did you ever ask Dad where the money came from?””
“Yes.””
“And what did he say?””
“That Grandpa wanted us both to have good lives.””
I turned.
“That wasn't his money to distribute however he wanted.””
“I know.””
“Do you?””
Bryce's eyes filled.
“I'm sorry.””
I wanted to believe him.
But an apology couldn't restore the years I'd lost.
It couldn't erase the loan payments.
It couldn't give Grandpa another chance to see me graduate.
I sat down again.
“Why are you telling me now?””
Bryce reached for his phone.
“Because Dad called me last night.””
He opened a recording.
“I recorded it because I was afraid he'd ask me to sign something else.””
He pressed play.
Dad's voice filled the room.
“Bryce, I need you to tell Halley the property was transferred before Grandpa died.””
Bryce's recorded voice answered.
“But it wasn't.””
“That's not what the documents need to show.””
“What if Emmett checks?””
“Emmett doesn't have everything.””
“What about the original deed?””
A pause.
Then Dad said:
“That's why I need you to get it before your sister does.””
The recording ended.
I stared at my brother.
“Where's the original?””
Bryce hesitated.
“Dad has it.””
“Where?””
“At the repair shop. In the old office safe.””
I pulled out my phone.
“I'm calling Emmett.””
Bryce caught my wrist.
“Wait.””
“What?””
He looked directly at me.
“There's one more thing.””
I closed my eyes.
I was beginning to hate those words.
“Tell me.””
Bryce opened another photograph.
It showed a handwritten note on a piece of paper.
The handwriting was Grandpa's.
But the date was September 2021.
Six months after his death.
I looked at Bryce.
“How is that possible?””
He swallowed.
“It's not.””
The note was attached to a property authorization document.
It appeared to approve the transfer of the little house.
I stared at the signature.
Then I noticed the paper beneath it.
It was a photocopy of a letter Grandpa had written in 2020.
Someone had used it to imitate his signature.
Bryce whispered, “Dad made that document.””
I felt the room tilt.
“Are you sure?””
“I saw him working on it.””
“Why didn't you stop him?””
Bryce began crying.
“Because he told me I could go to prison too.””
I stared at my brother.
Then my phone rang.
Emmett.
I answered.
“Halley, I need you to come to the orchard immediately.””
“What happened?””
“Western Ridge has just filed a notice claiming it has a binding purchase agreement.””
“Can they do that?””
“They can file a claim. It doesn't mean they'll win.””
I glanced at the documents.
“What about the little house?””
There was a pause.
“That's why I'm calling.””
My stomach tightened.
“Why?””
“Someone has filed a second deed transfer this morning.””
I looked at Bryce.
“Who signed it?””
Emmett's voice became very quiet.
“Your father.””
Then he added:
“But the beneficiary listed on the new deed isn't Daniel.””
I gripped the phone.
May you like
“Who is it?””
“Bryce.””
