Chapter 3

"What does it change? If that six hundred thousand didn't go to some Porsche owner, it means you took my down payment money to pay off some shady debt for Hailey."

Logan didn't say a word.

I took a deep breath. "Forget it. I'm not going to argue with you about your money. But when are you returning my fifty thousand dollar down payment?"

"Chloe, can you stop bringing up money every second? I told you I'll pay you back—"

"When?"

"Once... once the second mortgage is cleared."

"You borrowed six hundred thousand against it. How are you going to clear it?"

Silence again.

I hung up and went straight to the bank.

Our mortgage was co-signed, but only his signature was on the refinance loan documents. By law, any major change to a co-signed property required both parties to sign in person.

The bank manager pulled up our file, flipped through a few pages, and frowned.

"Ms. Chloe, there is a Power of Attorney attached to this loan agreement. It bears your signature, authorizing Mr. Logan Vance to handle all refinancing and mortgage decisions on this property."

She pushed the photocopy toward me.

I looked at the signature. The name "Chloe" was written in a handwriting that looked very similar to mine, but the stroke endings were wrong—I always flick the final stroke of my name upward, while this signature dragged downward.

"This isn't my signature."

The bank manager's expression shifted instantly. "Are you certain?"

"Absolutely. I never signed this document, nor did I authorize anyone to refinance the house."

She closed the folder. "This involves forgery. You have the right to file a report with the police—"

"I understand. Thank you."

Walking out of the bank, I squatted by the curb and spent three minutes just trying to breathe. It wasn't sadness. It was the sheer absurdity of it all.

We had been together for five years. I thought his biggest flaw was just being too soft-hearted. I never imagined he would be soft-hearted enough to forge my signature and steal my half of our home for Hailey.

And he still had the nerve to tell me to "stop bringing up money."

At three in the afternoon, Mia Snapchat-ed me another link.

It was Hailey's TikTok. She had posted a short video. Flawlessly made up, she looked into the camera with tearful eyes:

"Thank you to the anonymous friend who saved my brother and me... I know not everyone understands, and some people are saying really hurtful things behind my back... but I believe in good karma. Kindness always finds its way back to you."

The comment section was flooded with sympathy: "Stay strong, Hailey!" "Who cares what they think? Some people are just miserable." "Honestly, people are so selfish. They don't know your pain."

I checked my Snapchat inbox. I had over a dozen unread messages from mutual friends I shared with Logan.

"Chloe, Logan said you're breaking up over a house? Isn't that a bit dramatic?"

"Chloe, is there a misunderstanding? Hailey is going through a really rough time."

"Hey, Logan asked me to talk to you. He’s willing to sign a promissory note. Don't throw away five years over this."

I didn't reply to a single one. Just as I was about to close the app, Logan called.

"Chloe, did you go to the bank?"

News traveled fast. The bank manager must have notified him immediately to cover her own bases.

"Yes, I did."

"Are you trying to put me in prison? You're being incredibly heartless."

"You forged my signature to steal my property. Who's the heartless one here?"

"I only did it to help Hailey—"

"And your way of helping Hailey is committing a felony?"

He fell silent. After a long pause, he lowered his voice, trying to sound gentle and sweet.

"Chloe, I admit I went about it the wrong way. But what's done is done. Making a scene won't benefit anyone. Just give me some time—"

"I’ll give you time the moment you wire my fifty thousand dollars back."

Another silence.

Then, he said something completely bizarre: "Chloe, promise me one thing. Don't go to your apartment today."

"Why?"

"Just don't go. Let me handle everything first."

I hung up, a cold dread pooling in my stomach. I hailed a cab and went straight to my apartment.

Twenty minutes later, I stood outside my door and shoved my key into the lock—it wouldn't go in.

The lock had been changed.

I tried three times. Then, I banged on the door.

A soft, airy voice drifted out from behind the door.

"Who is it?"

It was a voice I knew all too well.

Hailey.

She was inside my apartment, asking me who I was through my own door.

"Open the door," I said coldly.

Two seconds of silence. Then, Hailey’s voice dripped with sweet, calculated innocence.

"Oh, Chloe... it's you. Logan gave me a spare key. He said I could stay here for a few days. I really didn't want to impose on you..."