I unzipped the bag and turned it upside down. A thick stack of notarized legal documents, a notary stamp, and three signed transfer forms spilled across the dining table.
Mark: These are forged signatures. My mother's name is signed on all of these power of attorney forms.
Vanessa: She signed them! She agreed to give me authorization over the trust funds!
Eleanor: She forced my hand... she threatened to keep me in that room forever if I didn't sign those papers...
Mark: You forced my mother to forge documents under duress while holding her hostage in my own house?
Vanessa: It’s our money, Mark! Your father meant for us to have it, not her! She was going to leave it all to a charity foundation!
Mark: It was HIS money! And she is HIS widow!
Vanessa: Look at yourself! You were broke before you met me! I managed the real estate portfolio, I handled the lawyers, I built this life for us!
Mark: You built a prison behind my dining room wall!
Vanessa pulled her cell phone out of her pocket, her thumbs flying across the screen.
Mark: Who are you calling?
Vanessa: My divorce lawyer. And my brother. He’s already on his way here with the moving van to clear out the safe.
Mark: What safe?
Vanessa: The hidden safe under the master bedroom floorboards. The one with the bearer bonds and your father's liquid assets.
Mark: You’ve been planning this for months, haven't you?
Vanessa: I was securing our financial future! You were too soft to do what needed to be done!
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