My younger brother, Oliver Lawson, calls me out of the blue and tells me that he wishes to transfer 30% of his company's shares to my name.

"Daphne, you've helped me out far too much over the years. Now that my company is making profits, it's only fair that you receive these shares."

Feeling quite surprised, I rush to OIiver's company. The paperwork is already laid out on the desk.

Suddenly, live comments appear in front of my eyes.

"Don't sign those documents! These aren't dividend shares! Instead, they are management shares, which makes you take on the company's debts!

"Oliver's company can no longer pay off its debts! Once you sign the documents, you'll become the jointly and severally liable party! The 30-million-dollar debt will be saddled on your shoulders!

"Your house, savings, as well as your daughter's school-district property will be seized by the court!"

I hold the pen, yet I make no move to do anything with it.

Oliver smiles as he pats me on the back of my hand.

"What are you staring at, Daphne? Once you're done signing, you have to treat me to a nice meal, you know!"

As soon as his hand touches mine, I hear his voice echoing in my mind.

"Daphne has had it too difficult in this lifetime. After the divorce, she has been raising Emma all by herself. I've always wanted to give her something to help improve her life.

"The dividends for the next quarter come to at least 100 thousand dollars. That should be enough for Daphne to clear her house mortgage.

"Our parents left us far too early in life, leaving us to rely on each other. If I don't treat her well, who else will?"

I can only hold the pen, feeling my fingers going cold.

Who should I believe?

My younger brother, Oliver Lawson, called while I was standing in the grocery store, trying to pick out yogurt for my daughter, Emma Sullivan.

"Daphne, you've helped me more than I can ever repay over the years," he said. "My company's making money now, and I want to transfer 30% of the shares to you."

I froze in front of the cooler, convinced I'd misheard him. "What did you just say?"

"I'm transferring 30% of the company to you. I've already had my lawyer draw up the paperwork. All you have to do is come sign it."

Oliver's tone was relaxed and sincere, as though it were no big deal at all.

Warmth spread through my chest when I heard that.

Our parents had died years ago, leaving just the two of us to depend on each other. Back when Oliver was trying to get his business off the ground, I'd loaned him every penny I'd saved after my divorce. I'd even pulled Emma out of her tutoring program for a semester.

Now that his company had finally taken off, he wanted to show his gratitude. Everything I'd done for my little brother hadn't been for nothing.

So, I set the yogurt down and took a cab straight to his office.

…

When I arrived, Oliver came out to greet me. A smile played on his lips as he led me into his office. "Take a seat, Daphne. Everything's ready."

A thick share transfer agreement sat on his desk, with a pen resting beside it.

I picked up the pen. Just as I was about to flip to the signature page, lines of red text flashed before my eyes.

The first one read, "Don't sign it! Those aren't the kind of shares that pay dividends! They'll make you responsible for the company's debts!"

"The company's already underwater. The second you sign, you'll become jointly liable, and that 30-million-dollar debt becomes yours!"

"Your home, your savings, and even the house you bought so your daughter could attend a better school will all be taken from you!"

My hand froze in midair. The tip of the pen hovered less than half an inch above the paper, while the comments kept popping up.

Another one read, "He owes money to loan sharks. The debt collectors will show up next week, and he needs someone else to take the fall!"

"The moment you sign, he'll slip away clean while you're left holding the bag!"

"Wake up! He's not repaying your kindness. He's ruining your life!"

I blinked hard. The red words were perfectly clear, one line after another drifting before my eyes.

"Daphne, what are you looking at?"

Oliver's voice snapped me back to reality.

He smiled, patted the back of my hand, and added, "After you sign, dinner's on you."

The instant his hand touched mine, I heard his voice inside my head. "It has been hard on Daphne. She's been raising Emma alone ever since the divorce. I've been wanting to do something for her.

"Next quarter's dividends should be at least 100 thousand dollars. That'll be enough for her to pay off the mortgage.

"Mom and Dad are gone. It's just us two now. If I don't look out for her, who will?"

The words were heartfelt, each one coming straight from the heart. But the comments kept appearing before my eyes.

There was Oliver's genuine love, and there were those red texts screaming at me. Which one was I supposed to believe?

I set the pen down and smiled. "This agreement's pretty thick. Let me read through the terms before I sign."

"Of course. Take your time, Daphne. There's no rush."

Oliver didn't seem bothered in the slightest. He poured me a cup of coffee before settling onto the couch across from me.

Then, he pulled out his phone and started scrolling, looking completely unconcerned.

I flipped through the agreement and pretended to study the terms. In reality, I couldn't make myself focus on a single word of the dense legal jargon.

The comments insisted Oliver was trying to hurt me. But could a person's innermost thoughts really be fake?

I turned a few pages. Suddenly, my gaze landed on a line of small print.

It read, "From the date this agreement is signed, the transferee shall assume joint liability for any existing company debts in proportion to their ownership share."

My heart sank. Joint liability?

If the company had no debts, then the clause would mean nothing. But if it did…

"Oliver." I looked up. "What does this joint liability clause mean?"

He leaned over, glanced at it, and smiled, waving it off.

"It's just standard legal boilerplate. Every share transfer agreement has clauses like that. My company doesn't have any debt, so it doesn't really matter."

Oliver sounded relaxed, with nothing to hide.

I stared into his eyes to search for even a trace of guilt. But his gaze was steady, carrying only the faint resignation of someone thinking I was overreacting.

I hesitated. Maybe the comments really were nothing more than hallucinations. Maybe I was being too sensitive.

So, I picked up the pen again.

This time, the red text exploded across my vision in bold, enlarged characters. "Sign it, and you're dead!"

My hand trembled, and I set the pen down again.

Oliver frowned as he watched me pick up the pen again and again, only to set it back down each time. "What's wrong, Daphne?"

I made up an excuse.

"I just remembered Emma's tutoring session is almost over. I need to go pick her up. How about I take the document home, go through it tonight, and come back to sign it tomorrow?"

Oliver fell silent for a second, then smiled. "Don't you trust me?"

The question hit me like a punch to the gut. "It's not that. I just…"

"Listen to me, Daphne."

He pulled up a chair and sat beside me, his voice turning serious as he went on, "I know it's not easy raising Emma on your own. I know you have to second-guess everything. But I'm your brother. You really think I'd ever do anything to hurt you?"

Oliver looked at me, and tears welled up in his eyes.

"When Mom and Dad died, you were the one who held everything together. You were only 19. Other young ladies your age were off at university, dating, and living their lives.

"But you were already working in a factory. I've never forgotten all the money you lent me over the years. It's not that I didn't want to pay you back. I just wanted to give you even more."

At that point, Oliver's voice cracked. "30% of the company is the best I can give you right now. Take it. Once the quarterly dividends start coming in, you and Emma won't have to struggle anymore."

My eyes stung, and I almost cried. This was my little brother. The boy I basically raised. How could he ever hurt me?

With that, I took a deep breath and picked up the pen again.

But the comments exploded across my vision once more. "Don't let him fool you! He's putting on an act! If you sign it, you're done!"

At that very moment, my hand brushed the edge of the papers, and my fingertips grazed Oliver's hand where it rested on the desk. In an instant, his thoughts flooded into my mind again.

"If Daphne knew what surprise I've got prepared for her, she'd definitely cry.

"Once she signs, I'm taking her to see the house. It's right next to Emma's school. I've already put down the down payment, and the deed is in her name.

"She has suffered enough. Starting today, I'm going to make sure she finally gets to live a good life."

A house? Oliver bought me a house?

My hand began to tremble, but this time it wasn't from fear. It was from being moved.

The comments insisted Oliver was trying to hurt me. Yet, his thoughts were filled with guilt and love for me. His thoughts couldn't be fake, could they?

So, I gritted my teeth and lowered the pen toward the signature line.

Just then, the office door opened, and Oliver's assistant poked his head inside. "Mr. Lawson, there's a package downstairs addressed to your sister. They require her signature in person."

Oliver paused before smiling at me. "Daphne, let's go downstairs and pick something up."

I followed him downstairs, only to find a large cardboard box with my name on it.

Then, Oliver told me to open it. Inside was a brand-new set of kitchen appliances—the exact model I'd casually mentioned online that I wanted to get.

"Didn't you say your oven broke? I bought you a new one while I was at it," he said with a grin, as if it were no big deal.

I stared at the appliances, feeling warm and choked up inside. He'd remembered an offhand comment I'd made online. How could a brother like that possibly hurt me?

The comments had to be fake. Maybe I was too tired and hallucinating.

…

We went back upstairs to Oliver's office. I sat down and picked up the pen again.

This time, I didn't hesitate.

The tip of the pen had just touched the paper when something at the corner of the desk caught my eye.

Oliver's phone was lying there, face up. The screen lit up, and a message preview popped up. The sender's contact name read, "Adam."

Yet, only the first few words were visible. "Did she sign yet? The boss is really pushing…"

The notification disappeared just as quickly.

My hand froze, and the pen left a small blot of ink on the paper.

I stared at the darkened screen, and my heart leaped into my throat once more.

In the end, I didn't sign.

"Oliver, I'm suddenly feeling a bit dizzy. I think my blood sugar dropped." I set the pen down and massaged my temples. "Give me a minute. I'll sign it in a bit."

In an instant, Oliver looked worried. "Are you okay? Want me to get you a sweet drink?"

"No, it's fine. Go do what you need to. I'll just sit for a minute."

He hesitated, then nodded. "Alright. I've got something to handle next door. I'll be back in five minutes."

With that, he walked out of the office and shut the door.

I waited until Oliver's footsteps had faded before grabbing the phone he'd left on the desk.

The phone was locked, so I keyed in his birthday. But it wasn't the correct password. Mom and Dad's date of death wasn't it either.

Then, I tried my birthday, and the phone unlocked.

My heart hammered in my chest as I quickly opened his messages and found the conversation with Adam.

The latest text read, "Did she sign yet? The boss is really pushing me. Today's the deadline."

I scrolled up, only to see Oliver's reply. "Almost. My sister's reading the agreement. She'll sign any minute now."

A little higher up, Adam had written, "Everything's ready with the house. Once your sister signs, take her to check it out."

Oliver texted back, "Got it."

My hands went still. The house. It was the same one he had been thinking about earlier.

"Once your sister signs, take her to check it out."

Was that meant to reassure me? Or was it really a surprise?

I scrolled further up, searching for more clues.

Suddenly, footsteps sounded outside the door. I quickly exited the chat, set the phone exactly where it had been, and resumed massaging my temples.

Oliver pushed the door open and came in holding a cup of hot chocolate. "Here. Drink this. I asked the receptionist to make it."

I took the cup and sipped it, but my mind was in turmoil. How was I supposed to make sense of those messages?

"Feeling better?"

Oliver sat across from me, looking concerned.

I nodded. "Much better."

"So…" he said, sliding the document toward me. "Should we continue?"

I looked at the agreement, then at Oliver. He looked calm. His gaze was soft, and a faint expectant smile played on his lips.

This was my little brother, and I'd raised him. He was barely a year old when he first said my name.

I took a deep breath, picked up the pen, and said, "Alright. I'll sign."

The moment the pen touched the paper, my phone buzzed. It was a message from the bank.

"Dear customer, the property registered under your name at 42 Fairview Drive has been flagged for a pending legal seizure. If you have any questions, please contact…"

My blood ran cold at once. A pending legal seizure? My house?

But I hadn't even signed the agreement yet. How could there already be a legal claim against my property?

Unless someone had already registered my information under the company. Unless someone had already set everything in motion before I signed.

My head snapped up, and I looked at Oliver. He was staring down at his phone, so he was oblivious to my expression.

I quickly closed the message and forced myself to calm down.

No. It could be a scam. Fake bank texts were everywhere these days. Just last month, I'd gotten one claiming I'd won five million dollars.

One text wasn't enough to make me believe my brother was trying to hurt me. However, I couldn't pretend nothing had happened.

"Oliver," I called out, forcing my voice to stay steady. "I just got a text saying my house is under some kind of legal seizure. Do you know anything about it?"

I studied his reaction.

He looked up, frowning. "Huh? What seizure? Let me see."

I handed him my phone.

Oliver glanced at the screen for barely two seconds before chuckling. "Come on, Daphne. It's a scam text. Look at the number. It's clearly not the bank's official one. There are tons of scammers these days. Just ignore it."

I took the phone back and looked at the sender's number. Sure enough, it wasn't an official bank number. It was just an ordinary mobile number.

I let out a sigh of relief. It really was a scam.

"That scared me to death!"

I smiled and picked up the pen again.

Oliver smiled too. "You worry too much, Daphne. Come on. Sign it. Once you're done, I'll take you somewhere."

I nodded and lowered the pen toward the signature line once more. But then something struck me.

Oliver had said, "Look at the number. It's clearly not the bank's official one."

But he had barely glanced at it. How could he tell that fast?