Chapter 5: The Money Behind The Dream
I drove back to my house in silence.
Not because I had nothing to say.
Because I had too much.
Every memory from the last year felt different now.
The dinner where my father asked how much I had saved.
The conversation where my mother casually asked about my bank.
The day I told them I was close to buying.
I thought they were proud.
Maybe they were calculating.
When I arrived, the house looked exactly the same.
But it didn’t feel like home anymore.
Ryan was waiting outside.
He stood beside his car with his hands in his pockets.
“You came back.””
I unlocked the door.
“I live here.””
He nodded.
The words hurt him.
Good.
They were supposed to.
Inside, the furniture was still there.
Some boxes remained.
Kelsey had taken the kids to a hotel after everything happened.
For the first time, the house was quiet.
Ryan walked into the kitchen.
“This place is beautiful.””
I looked at him.
“You don’t get to say that.””
He looked down.
“I know.””
A few seconds passed.
Then he spoke.
“Dad called me.””
I froze.
“What did he say?””
“He told me not to talk to you.””
Of course.
“He said you were confused.””
I laughed softly.
“Confused.””
Ryan nodded.
“He said Miranda was turning us against each other.””
“And you believed him?””
He looked away.
“For a while.””
That honesty surprised me.
“Why?””
Ryan sat at the island.
“Because my whole life, I thought our parents were protecting me.””
I didn’t respond.
He looked around.
“I didn’t realize they were hurting you to do it.””
The words were quiet.
But they mattered.
My phone buzzed.
A message from Miranda.
*I found something. Check your email.*
I opened it.
There was a bank record.
A transfer.
My eyes moved across the screen.
Then stopped.
I read it again.
And again.
“No.””
Ryan looked up.
“What?””
I turned the phone toward him.
His face went pale.
The down payment.
The money I spent years saving.
The money I thought came from my own account.
It wasn’t.
Not completely.
There was another source.
A large transfer from an account belonging to my father’s company.
Ryan whispered:
“Dad paid for the house?””
I shook my head.
“No.””
My voice was barely audible.
“He didn’t pay for it.””
I looked closer.
The money had been transferred into my account months before closing.
My father had disguised it as a personal gift.
Then later, he used that transfer as proof that he had ownership interest.
“He planted the money.””
Ryan stared.
“Why?””
The answer came before I wanted to say it.
“Because he wanted a way to claim the house.””
My phone rang.
Miranda.
I answered immediately.
“Tell me this is wrong.””
Her voice was careful.
“I wish it was.””
I closed my eyes.
“What else did you find?””
“The transfer wasn’t random. Your father moved company funds into your account.””
“Why mine?””
“Because he needed the purchase to look legitimate while creating a future argument that the property was partly financed by him.””
I felt sick.
“So he was building a case.””
“Yes.””
A horrible thought entered my mind.
“Did he know I would find out?””
“No.””
Miranda paused.
“But someone else did.””
I looked at Ryan.
“What do you mean?””
“There was a second person who accessed the records.””
My heart started pounding.
“Who?””
She hesitated.
Then:
“Kelsey.””
I stared.
“What?””
“Your sister-in-law requested information about the property two weeks before moving in.””
Ryan stood up.
“That’s impossible.””
Miranda continued.
“The request came from her email.””
I looked at Ryan.
His expression changed.
Not anger.
Fear.
Because now the question wasn’t only whether my parents betrayed me.
It was whether Ryan’s entire family had been part of it.
That night, I called Kelsey.
She answered after the first ring.
“Jenna?””
Her voice sounded nervous.
“We need to talk.””
A long silence.
Then she whispered:
“I was wondering when you’d find out.””
My blood ran cold.
“What did you know?””
Another pause.
May you like
Then Kelsey said:
“Everything.””
