Chapter 3
The tuition for my first year of college was 2,700 dollars.
My mom sent me 1,500 thousand dollars, and my grandparents scraped together 1,000 dollars.
I never told anyone that the last 200 dollars was what I earned working at a bubble tea shop over the summer.
During my second semester of freshman year, I started tutoring.
I worked both days on the weekends, making 100 dollars a day. That came out to 800 dollars dollars a month.
It was enough to cover my meals, pay for next semester's textbooks, and even leave me with a little extra.
Mom's calls became fewer and fewer. From every two weeks, to once a month, and finally, only on Christmas Day.
She always said the same few lines. "Make sure you eat well at school. Do you have enough money? I love you."
I always told her I had enough money.
Truth was, I hadn't. But she never sent extra.
During my sophomore year, on Christmas Day, I was alone in my dorm, eating cake.
My phone buzzed. It was a family photo from Mom. She was front and center, smiling brightly.
Richard had his arm around her shoulders, with Eden on the left and Sabrina on the right.
The background was our living room. I zoomed in. On the wall hung a new family photo, four people.
The spot where our old family photo used to be was now taken by this new one.
I closed the cake box. My stomach twisted. And I couldn't eat anymore.
Something happened during my second semester of sophomore year.
In my law class, Isaac was teaching property law, and I was paying more attention than anyone else.
After class, I went up to ask him a question. "Professor, if a minor inherits a property, does her guardian have the right to dispose of it before she comes of age?"
Isaac adjusted his glasses. "A legal guardian can manage the property, but they can't sell it off or do whatever they want with it. Unless they can prove it's really for the kid's best interest."
"What if the guardian wants to transfer ownership?" I pressed.
Isaac replied, "They'd need notarization, a solid reason, and proof that it's for the child's benefit. If the kid's already an adult, there's basically no way."
Hearing this, I nodded.
Back in my dorm, I opened my laptop and logged into the property registration system.
Isaac had shown us how to use it in class.
I typed in the address: 17 Rose Alley. The page took three seconds to load.
Property owner: Lindsay Goodman.
It hadn't changed. I let out a sigh of relief.
Then I checked the second property, the smaller one at 66 Riverside Road.
Property owner: Lindsay Goodman.
That hadn't changed either.
Just as I was about to close the page, I noticed a line of small print. [Request to transfer ownership of existing property: denied.]
My fingers went numb. I clicked to see more.
[Applicant: Beatrice Carlson.
[Date of application: March 15, 2021.
[Request: Transfer ownership of 66 Riverside Road from Lindsay Goodman to Richard Quinn.
[Reason: Family property adjustment.
[Result: Denied. Reason: The property owner is already an adult and has to be there in person.]
I stared at the name "Richard Quinn" on the screen for ages.
When I was nineteen, Mom tried to sign over the house my father left behind for me to my stepfather.
The reason was family property adjustment.
The request was denied. Because I was already of age, they needed my signature. So Mom didn't get what she wanted.
But what if I was still a minor? What if she had submitted the request when I was seventeen or eighteen?
As my legal guardian, could she have taken the house, claiming it was "for my own good"?
A chill shot up my spine. I closed my eyes and sat there in the dark for ages.
Then I pulled out my phone and made a call. "Professor Warren, could you recommend a reliable real estate lawyer?"
Soon, Isaac introduced me a lawyer. Gavin Fox was in his forties, spoke fast, and got straight to the point.
I sent him photos of both property deeds.
Gavin paused for a moment. "Lindsay, I understand everything you've told me. The good news is, the transfer didn't go through."
"What's the bad news?" I asked.
Gavin replied, "The bad news is, as your former guardian, your mom might still have spare keys, property documents, or could've signed things in your name. Here's what you should do.
"First, go to the property registry and request a freeze on the title, so nobody can try to transfer it for any reason.
"Second, check the actual usage of every property registered under your name."
I went to the property registry first thing the next morning.
The whole process took about forty minutes, and the staff stamped it three times.
When I stepped outside, the sunlight was almost too bright to look at.
I glanced down at the receipt for the property freeze in my hand. It read: [Property disposal frozen. Unfreezing requires the owner to apply in person.]
Gavin told me another thing later. "I checked that Richard doesn't own any property or a car, and his social security payments have lapsed for two years.
"Your mom just has a shared social security record with you, no property in her own name."
So basically, for the past six years, they'd all been living in my house.
Utilities, heating, and maintenance fees alone added up to over 50 thousand dollars.
And all those bills were paid with the 100 thousand dollars Dad left behind.
Dad's money was supporting them. And I was out there hustling to cover my tuition.