CHAPTER 3 – The Mother’s Lies Begin to Crumble
The silence lasted so long that the ticking grandfather clock became deafening.
No one reached for another drink.
No one dared to meet Daniel's eyes.
His mother was the first to recover.
She let out a dramatic sigh, pressed one hand against her chest, and shook her head as though she were the injured party.
"So this is how you greet your own mother after five years?"
Daniel said nothing.
She took another step closer.
"I protected everything while you were away. I sacrificed my old age for this family, and now you come home accusing me because your wife filled your head with poison."
Amara remained outside.
She had refused to enter the villa.
She already knew what would happen.
Naomi quickly joined in.
"Brother, Amara never respected Mother. She refused to listen. She wasted food, refused to help around the house, and always complained about money."
Daniel looked at his sister.
"Money?"
Naomi nodded eagerly.
"Yes! We gave her plenty."
Daniel leaned back in his chair.
"How much?"
Naomi hesitated.
Mother answered instead.
"Enough."
Daniel smiled.
"I didn't ask if it was enough."
He reached for the blue notebook.
"Let's make this simple."
He flipped through the pages until he found one highlighted in yellow.
"Every month I transferred six thousand dollars."
He looked at his mother.
"How much did Amara receive?"
His mother's lips tightened.
"It depended."
"On what?"
"Expenses."
"What expenses?"
"The house."
"The children."
"Maintenance."
"Electricity."
"Food."
Daniel nodded patiently.
"Good."
He pulled another folder from the suitcase.
"I asked the bank to prepare every transfer before I left Saudi."
The guests leaned closer.
Inside were neatly organized receipts.
Property taxes.
Utility bills.
Insurance.
School payments.
Every legitimate expense had already been paid automatically through standing instructions.
Months.
Years.
Everything.
Daniel slid the documents across the marble table.
"I paid every bill directly."
His mother stared.
Naomi stared.
"So..."
Daniel folded his hands.
"What expenses exactly?"
Neither answered.
One of Naomi's drinking companions quietly stood.
"I think maybe we should leave."
Naomi grabbed his arm.
"No!"
Daniel smiled politely.
"Please."
"You don't have to."
"They've enjoyed my hospitality for years."
The words carried enough meaning to make every guest uncomfortable.
Then Daniel asked another question.
"Mother..."
"Where is the title deed?"
She blinked.
"What?"
"The villa."
"My villa."
"I'd like to see the papers."
Her face changed.
Only for a second.
But Daniel noticed.
"So late at night?" she laughed nervously.
"We'll do it tomorrow."
"No."
"Tonight."
She looked toward Naomi.
Naomi suddenly became fascinated with her phone.
"I... I put the documents somewhere safe."
Daniel nodded slowly.
"Bring them."
"They're not here."
"Where?"
"At the lawyer's office."
Daniel smiled again.
"Interesting."
He reached inside his jacket.
"I visited the land registry before coming home."
His mother stopped breathing.
"I wanted to surprise everyone."
He unfolded a certified copy of the ownership record.
The room fell completely silent.
The owner's name...
Had changed.
Not Daniel Ibrahim.
Not Daniel and Amara.
Instead...
Grace Ibrahim.
His mother.
Naomi gasped loudly.
"Mother..."
Daniel slowly looked up.
"I never signed this."
Nobody spoke.
He examined the signature carefully.
Then placed it beside his passport.
The signatures were completely different.
One smooth.
One shaky.
One genuine.
One forged.
Daniel quietly whispered,
"So..."
"Someone forged my name."
His mother suddenly burst into tears.
Real tears this time.
"I did it for the family!"
"You were overseas!"
"What if something happened to you?"
"I had to protect the property!"
Naomi immediately nodded.
"Exactly!"
"It was only paperwork."
Daniel looked at both of them.
"No."
His voice remained calm.
"It is called fraud."
The word struck like thunder.
One guest quietly slipped toward the door.
Another followed.
Within seconds, every outsider had disappeared.
The party was over.
Only family remained.
And family, Daniel realized, could become the greatest enemy of all.
That night, Daniel walked outside.
Amara still sat behind the kitchen wall with the children asleep against her shoulders.
He knelt beside them.
His daughter stirred.
"Papa?"
He stroked her tangled hair.
"I'm here."
"Are we going home now?"
Daniel looked at the brightly lit villa.
Then at the dirt beneath his daughter's bare feet.
He made a promise.
"Yes."
May you like
"But first..."
"I'm taking our home back."
