He put the call on speaker.
My mother’s voice filled the conference room.
“I need to know why your office contacted my daughter.
This is a private family transaction.”
Daniel remained calm.
“Mrs.
Chin, we contacted Miss Chin because our file indicates she may hold an interest in the property.”
“She doesn’t understand the arrangement.”
I finally spoke.
“I understand that you signed a contract to sell my property.”
Silence.
Then came the tone I had known all my life: controlled, disappointed, almost maternal, as if my refusal to cooperate were the true offense.
“Sarah, don’t make this uglier than it needs to be.”
“Did you accept four hundred thousand dollars?”
“The money is being used for the family.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
Her voice sharpened.
“Clare is in serious trouble.
You have assets.
She has debts.
Your grandmother would never have wanted one granddaughter sitting on millions while the other one loses everything.”
There it was.
Not denial.
Justification.
Daniel’s expression changed.
“Mrs.
Chin,” he said, “Sarah is the recorded owner of 1247 Coastal Highway.
Do you have a deed transferring ownership from her to you?”
“This is a family matter.”
“Property ownership isn’t determined by a family vote.”
