“No,” he said. “It’s my mother’s.”

I stood up from the desk.

The wooden chair legs scraped loudly against the oak floorboards.

My hands were shaking, so I balled them into tight fists.

“Linda took out a loan on my house,” I said.

“It’s our house, Soph,” he muttered, though his voice lacked any real conviction.

“My mother paid the down payment,” I said. “Her name was on the original deed. You know that.”

I closed my eyes for a brief second, remembering the painful months after my mother’s funeral.

During those dark weeks, I had spent hours sorting through her estate paperwork.

I had quietly taken steps with my lawyer to ensure my legal interest in this property was secure.

I knew Ethan’s family was financially unstable, but I had never expected this.

“We were desperate,” Ethan said, taking a step into the study.

“Ryan was in deep with some very bad people. They were threatening to go to his employer. They were going to sue him.”

“So you stole from me to save your brother?”

“It was just a bridge loan,” he said, reaching out a hand.