My father kept staring at David.
The manila folder was open between them.
David held one document in his hand.
Richard looked at the signature near the bottom.
Then he looked at the attorney again.
"I asked you a question."
David remained calm.
"I'm here regarding the property and the agreement you signed four years ago."
My father frowned.
"What agreement?"
Behind him, Patricia stepped closer.
Natalie had stopped moving.
Terrence stood near the staircase, still wearing the clothes he had worn to dinner.
My father looked irritated.
"This is my home."
David didn't argue about the wording.
Instead, he raised the document slightly.
"Mr. Richard, I think you should take another look at this."
My father accepted the paper.
He glanced at the first page.
Then he turned to the final page.
I watched his face through the camera.
He recognized the signature.
Of course he did.
He had signed it himself.
Four years earlier, he had been sitting across a table from David, relieved that someone had found a way for him and Patricia to remain in the property.
At the time, he hadn't cared much about who owned the company.
He had cared about staying.
Now he seemed to be searching for something on the page that would make the document disappear.
"This is an old agreement."
David nodded.
"That's correct."
"Why are you bringing it here tonight?"
"Because the owner has instructed me to address the matter."
My father looked up.
"The owner?"
Patricia moved closer.
"Richard, what is he talking about?"
He didn't answer her.
Instead, he turned another page.
David pointed to the relevant section.
"The agreement contains specific conditions concerning the occupants' conduct and their treatment of the property and its authorized representatives."
My father shook his head.
"We haven't done anything to the property."
David didn't raise his voice.
"I'm not here to debate the condition of the walls or the furniture."
That seemed to confuse him.
Natalie stepped forward.
"Can someone explain why you're here?"
David looked toward her.
"Are you currently staying at this property?"
Natalie hesitated.
"We're visiting our parents."
Terrence stepped beside her.
"What's that got to do with anything?"
David returned his attention to Richard.
"I need to establish who is occupying the premises and under what arrangement."
My mother finally spoke.
"This is ridiculous. We have lived here for years."
David nodded.
"And that arrangement is documented."
Patricia looked at the folder.
"Then why are you treating us like strangers?"
I sat at the hotel desk.
My hands were resting on either side of the laptop.
I could see the confusion spreading across their faces.
It was strange watching people discover that the papers they had once accepted so casually could matter more than their memories of a conversation.
My father turned toward the deputies.
"Do you know who I am?"
One of them answered politely.
"We're here to assist with the matter being handled by counsel, sir."
My father looked offended.
He had always believed his name carried weight.
At the country club, it did.
In his neighborhood, it did.
But the deputies weren't there to admire his position.
They were there because David had arranged the formal visit.
Richard looked back at the attorney.
"Who owns this house?"
David closed the folder halfway.
"I believe that is something you should have asked four years ago."
My mother went pale.
Natalie looked from David to my father.
Terrence stopped smiling.
For the first time, nobody seemed interested in discussing dinner.
Click here to continue reading: PART 6: The Anonymous Company Had a Name, and My Mother Finally Realized Why the Owner’s Attorney Had Always Answered Their Calls
My Father Asked Me to Leave, but the Cruelest Part Was Watching My Mother Smile While My Little Boy Tried Not to Cry
Part 5 of 16
