PART 11 — The revelation of the power of attorney
Mark stared at the papers on the table, his eyes wild with disbelief. “No... you're lying! This house has always belonged to Dad! He always said so!”
“Your father certainly managed the house, Mr. De Vries,” Detective Visser said sternly. “But the deed from the archive states in black and white that the usufruct and full legal ownership legally belong exclusively to your mother as heritage from her own family. Your father purposely set up this structure to ensure the house could never be alienated by third parties – including his own children, should they ever be tempted to abuse the situation.”
I looked at the signature under the document. It was my own signature, placed in the year we married, when I was young and naive and blindly signed everything Willem put in front of me. I had always thought it was a formality for our shared future. But now I understood the deeper, brilliant precaution of my late husband. Willem had known I was vulnerable, and he had ensured that my own family fund would stand like an impregnable fortress around me, long after he would be gone.
Sarah put her hands over her face and began to cry with pure frustration. “So... we've built our whole life on a house that could never have been ours? And you... you let us walk right into this?” she screamed, shoving Mark hard in the chest. “You said everything was watertight!”
Mark stood there like a defeated child, his shoulders bowed, his gaze fixed on the floor. The arrogance, the cold disdain of that morning in the rain – everything had vanished like snow in the sun. He had lost on all fronts.
