There I sat, chilling waking and baking flipping through the day's mail with an ice cup of coffee in my hand. My eyes abruptly shifted as a neon green striking official envelope caught my eye. Intrigued, I unfolded the crisp piece of paper tucked inside it, skimming the first few lines. That was the first thing.
Dear Brad Willams, As per the legal registry of homes, it is identified that the house, 112 Cathrine Lane, is currently under your ownership.
Bewildered, I carefully read through the rest of the letter and suddenly the day was anything but true. The details added another layer of mystery; apparently, I had owned the house for over six years and the mortgage had been paid off completely by someone else, now it’s time for suspicious.
How could someone buy a house in my name without my consent? Who would be kind enough or a scammer to do it and then pay off the mortgage?
A bunch of questions started building like a hurricane inside my mind. Suddenly, my attention diverted to my name, a common one, probably contributing to this mix-up. Could there be another Brad Williams out there?
Given the peculiar situation, the first instinct was to engage a professional. Hiring an attorney would be the best course of action; someone specialized in property law who would unravel this puzzling knot and prevent any further complications.
It didn’t take me long to set an appointment with Mr. Smith, a renowned real estate attorney. After meticulously going through the documentation, he validated the truth behind the claims. The house was legally mine but bought and paid for by a name that sounded too distant yet to familiar - Boss Mike.
Memories from the past started unfolding, linking to my benefactor. Mike The Boss Lee was my high school friend. The unexpected demise of his family in an accident led to our ways parting. This bizarre connection had rekindled the past that was hidden under the dust of time.
Nevertheless, an impending uneasiness took a hold of me. Had Boss got himself in some sort of legal trouble and thought hiding his assets under my name was a wise move? Or was it his own peculiar way to make amends with me?
Meanwhile, a priority was ensuring this acquisition had no links to criminal activities or laundering. Clearing my name from any suspicious transactions or potential scams was a necessity, so I filed a police report.
The following days seemed a blur with visits to the attorney, responding to the local police department's queries, and emotional turmoils. Days turned into weeks until one day, the mystery unfurled in the most unimaginable way.
A courier package landed on my doorstep with a note from Gabriel. The note began with an apology, proceeded to you didn’t have to file a police report on your own property dude. Then told me a story of how he came across few millions and with money comes which led to an emotional confession, I always cherished our bond and hoped to leave a part of my world to the only brother-like figure in my life. Hence, the house in your name.
Staring at my unexpected inheritance, my tumultuous emotions settled. I found myself standing outside 112 Catherine Lane. The house now bore a face, painted with memories and sealed with love. The house wasn't just an asset anymore, it was a keepsake; a poignant reminder of my forgotten friendship with Boss Mike.