Patrick’s mother was crying so loudly I could hear her through the phone. She had traded my Camry toward a newer SUV three days earlier because Patrick had assured the dealership that I had approved everything. My father’s message beneath the table had gone to his longtime attorney, asking him to verify the vehicle’s title and registration. Within minutes, he had confirmed exactly what Dad already suspected: the Camry was registered solely in my name. Patrick had never possessed legal authority to give it away.

Patrick tried claiming I had agreed verbally, but Dad asked one question: “Then why did Jenna arrive here in a taxi?” Nobody answered. I opened the folder on my phone containing the registration, insurance documents, and messages where Patrick had repeatedly referred to the Camry as my car. The dealership was contacted the following morning, and once they learned the owner disputed the transaction, the paperwork and signatures were placed under formal review.