Mark walked down the back hallway to the ground floor bedroom where his father slept.
The room was filled with the soft steady sound of an oxygen machine pumping air.
His father, Thomas Miller, sat propped up in a large cushioned armchair near the corner.
The old man's silver hair was combed neatly, and his pale eyes looked out the window.
Mark: Hey dad, it is Mark, I am right here with you tonight.
Thomas turned his head slowly and looked at his son with a warm faint smile.
Thomas: Mark... did you finish painting the old blue car today at work?
Mark: Yeah dad, I finished it right before coming home to check on you.
Mark pulled a wooden chair close to his father's armchair and sat down beside him.
He placed his rough hand over his father's thin, cold fingers with gentle care.
Mark: Dad, did you ever give Uncle Richard a deed to our family home?
Thomas blinked several times as a momentary flash of clarity lit up his tired eyes.
Thomas: Richard... he took my stamp box from the tool shed long ago.
Mark: What stamp box are you talking about, dad?
Thomas: Under the third floorboard... right behind the copper heating radiator in my closet.
Mark stood up immediately as a spark of hope ignited deep inside his chest.
He walked into his father's small closet and pushed aside heavy winter coats hanging there.
He knelt on the cold wooden floor and inspected the radiator base closely with a flashlight.
The third pine floorboard was loose and shifted slightly under his firm thumb pressure.
He inserted his pocket knife edge under the wooden groove and pried the board upward.
Beneath the floorboard lay a small metal strongbox covered in decades of grey dust.
Mark lifted the metal box out and carried it back toward the warm bedroom lamp.
The box was locked with a heavy brass padlock that required a small silver key.
Thomas reached into his sweater pocket and produced a tiny key on a blue string.
Thomas: I kept it safe... for the day you would need it most, son.
Mark inserted the key into the lock and turned it until a sharp click sounded.
He lifted the heavy metal lid and stared at the documents resting inside the box.
On top lay the original mortgage satisfaction certificate from the city bank downtown.
It proved the entire house mortgage was fully paid off twenty years prior by Thomas.
Below that document lay a police report charging Richard Miller with identity fraud and theft.
Mark realized his uncle had forged his father's signature on the fake transfer deed.
He clutched the genuine papers tightly as footsteps approached the bedroom door quickly.