Chapter 3: DO NOT SIGN ANYTHING
Dalton wrote down the filing numbers one at a time.
By the time he finished, the legal pad in front of him was nearly full.
Captain Morales looked at me.
“Do you have somewhere else you can stay tonight?”
I considered it.
Technically, I could have returned to my own house.
But suddenly I didn’t want to.
Not because I was afraid of them.
Because I didn’t trust myself to sit at that kitchen table and pretend everything was normal while they talked about my property as if it belonged to them.
“I can stay on base.”
“Do that.”
Before I left, Dalton gave me one final instruction.
“If anyone asks you to sign anything, photograph it. Don’t argue about it. Don’t destroy it. Don’t sign it. Just get a copy if you safely can.”
I nodded.
That afternoon, Dad called.
I allowed the phone to ring twice before answering.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Handling paperwork.”
There was a satisfied pause.
“Good. I knew you’d come around.”
I almost laughed.
Instead, I kept my voice steady.
“What exactly am I supposed to sign?”
“The transfer documents.”
“Who prepared them?”
Another pause.
“Someone I know.”
“What company?”
His tone sharpened.
“Why does that matter?”
“I like knowing what I’m signing.”
He sighed.
“You always make simple things difficult.”
There it was again.
Somehow, my refusal to surrender something that belonged to me had become the problem.
“I’ll look at whatever you have,” I said.
“Tonight.”
“I’ll see.”
“No. Tonight. Chloe and Vance need to get this settled.”
I stared through the office window.
Across the parking lot, soldiers were moving between buildings, carrying folders and coffee cups, going through an ordinary workday.
For nine months, I’d counted the days until I could come home.
Now I was less than an hour from my house, and somehow home felt farther away than it ever had overseas.
“Send me the documents,” I said.
Dad fell quiet.
“Why?”
“So I can review them.”
“You can review them at the house.”
“I’d rather read them first.”
Another long pause.
Then he said, “Fine.”
Ten minutes later, an email appeared in my inbox.
I forwarded it straight to Dalton.
His response came less than five minutes later.
Do not sign anything.
The documents Dad had sent were not the same papers Dalton had found at the county office.
These were new.
They were designed to confirm and finalize the earlier transfer.
If I signed them, Dalton explained, my family could later claim that I had knowingly approved what had already taken place.
In other words, they weren’t merely asking me to give them the house.
They were asking me to validate what someone had already tried to do without my permission.
That changed everything.