Chapter 3

I got back to my apartment, the one I lived in alone, shut the door, and closed everything outside out with it.

I didn't cry. I wasn't even angry. Inside, I was calm in a way that frightened me.

I opened my laptop and started tallying up every hidden cost I'd carried over these five years for my uncle's fast-food diner.

That included, but wasn't limited to, the tens of thousands they'd borrowed in the name of an emergency and never paid back.

The utility bills I'd covered for them more than once, and the money I'd had to spend renting a temporary storage unit at a steep rate because they'd taken over my stockroom.

Every last item. I remembered it all, down to the dollar.

I was still going through the records when an unknown number called.

I picked up. A gruff man's voice came through.

"Hey, is this Marian Matthews? That storefront of yours on the shopping street, we've taken it over."

"Do yourself a favor and bring the property deed over so we can settle the paperwork."

I frowned. "Who is this?"

"Who am I? Your brother Karl owes us a million, and he put your storefront up against it. He signed for it. It's in black and white."

My stomach dropped.

"That's impossible. He has no right to do that."

"Ha, whether he's got the right isn't up to you." The voice turned impatient.

"My guys are standing outside your storefront right now. You don't come, we pry the door open ourselves."

I grabbed my car keys and ran downstairs.

I drove there as fast as I could, and by the time I arrived a crowd had already gathered at the door.

A few men with tattoo sleeves were working a crowbar against the roll-down door, the one that had been sealed off with an official notice.

"Stop!" I ran over. "What you're doing is illegal!"

The one in front, a man with a scar across his face, stopped and looked me up and down.

He reached into his jacket, pulled out a crumpled contract, and flung it in front of me.

"Take a good look. Long-Term Commercial Lease Mortgage Agreement. Your brother Karl signed it, thumbprint and all."

"He put the next twenty years of the lease on this place up as collateral for a one-million loan."

"He said this storefront's going to be his sooner or later, so he had every right to deal with it."

On the contract, my name had been copied out in shaky, crooked strokes, and under the signature sat a bright red thumbprint.

I was shaking with anger. I called Karl right away.

The phone rang a long time before he picked up, and Karl's voice came through slurred with drink and pleased with itself.

"Hey, my dear little sister. What can I do for you?"

"Karl! You forged my signature and used my storefront as collateral for a loan? Have you lost your mind?"

"Lost my mind? I'm perfectly clear-headed." He laughed, wild, on the other end.

"You can't beat us anyway. That place is going to be mine sooner or later."

"I just cashed it in early. What's the problem? Think of that million as a little something you're giving your big brother."

"This is fraud!"

"You got the guts, go ahead and sue me. See whether the cops believe you or believe the rest of the family."

He hung up, gloating.

Right after that, the aunt started performing in the family group chat.

"Oh, come on, Karl was only doing it for the sake of this family."

"Marian's got money. A little slips through her fingers, so what's the harm in helping her brother pay off a million? We're all one family."

Then my parents' call came chasing after, coaxing me with all their soft-hearted pleading.

"Marian, why don't you just... put up a little money and get those people off our backs?"

"Take the loss and be done with the trouble. We can't afford to cross people like that..."

I drew in a deep breath and hung up on my parents.

I walked over to the man with the scar and forced myself calm.

"This contract is forged. The storefront is in my name. Karl has no right to deal with it."

"If you take it by force, that's illegal too."

Scarface let out a cold laugh. "We only recognize the contract and the note."

"Either you pay his debt right now, or we take this place to settle it. Your choice."

"Fine," I said with a nod, calm in a way he wasn't expecting.

"I won't pay. But this contract, can you make me a copy? I need one for my records."

Scarface blinked, like he'd never run into anyone who'd do this.

A tall, skinny one beside him muttered, "Boss, she isn't trying to pull something, is she?"

Scarface thought it over, and apparently decided one copy couldn't stir up any trouble, so he waved a hand, impatient.

"Make her a copy. I'd like to see what tricks she thinks she can pull."

I took that copy of the fake contract, the one that was enough to put Karl behind bars, turned, and left.

Behind me came their brazen, jeering laughter.

They had no idea. They'd just handed me the deadliest weapon of all.