That evening, my phone buzzed with an unfamiliar email address.
It was from Cass’s lawyer again.
Subject: Restitution and Statement Request
Cass has agreed to increased restitution payments. She is requesting, once again, that you sign a forgiveness statement acknowledging reconciliation. This would assist in her professional rehabilitation. Please advise.
I stared at the email until my jaw unclenched and my shoulders dropped.
It wasn’t about money. Not really. It was about rewriting the story.
If I signed, it would let Cass tell herself this was a misunderstanding, a family hiccup, a rough patch we all moved past. It would let my parents tell relatives I forgave her, so the shame could evaporate without anyone facing what they did.
It would let them reset without accountability.
I closed the email.
No reply.
Then I opened the folder on my computer labeled Home.
Inside was a scanned copy of my deed. My name at the bottom, clean and real.
I clicked print.
The printer whirred, and the page slid out warm. I held it in my hands like it was a passport out of my old life.