Chapter 13: I Wasn't His First Victim
"Enough that Daniel has been receiving debt notices for years.""
My aunt's words followed me into the parking garage, where I stood beside my car with the phone pressed against my ear.
"What do you mean, Dad used Daniel's account?""
Patricia took a shaky breath.
"Your father borrowed money from Daniel when he was nineteen. He said he needed help keeping the construction business alive. Daniel trusted him because Robert was family.""
"And Daniel agreed?""
"To the first loan, yes. Your father promised to repay it within six months. But when the business didn't recover, he started transferring money between accounts. He used Daniel's credit to secure additional financing without explaining what he was doing.""
I leaned against my car.
"How much does Daniel owe?""
"About $96,000, according to the last notice he showed me.""
Ninety-six thousand dollars.
Another young person working to build a future while my father quietly destroyed it.
"Why didn't Daniel tell anyone?""
"He was ashamed. Your father convinced him that he'd ruined the business by asking for repayment. Daniel thought he'd made a terrible mistake by trusting him.""
I closed my eyes.
That sounded familiar.
My father had spent years making every victim feel responsible for his actions. If someone questioned him, he called them selfish. If someone demanded repayment, he reminded them of everything he'd supposedly sacrificed.
And if someone believed him, he made sure they stayed quiet.
"Where is Daniel now?"" I asked.
"He's staying with a friend. He doesn't want to come home.""
"Does he know about my case?""
"Yes. He's been following what's happening. He told me to give you something.""
I heard paper rustling.
Then Patricia said, "He has a copy of a letter your father sent him three years ago. The letter says the debts were paid in full.""
"Did Daniel keep it?""
"Yes. He's afraid to hand it over because your father threatened to sue him if he discussed the business.""
"Tell him to contact my attorney. Rachel can explain how to preserve it.""
Patricia hesitated.
"Emily, there's another reason I called.""
I waited.
"Your father is preparing to leave Georgia.""
My heart skipped.
"Leave where?""
"He has been making arrangements to move to Florida. The condominium I told you about is already furnished. He says he's going there to start over.""
"Is Mom going with him?""
"I don't know. But I heard him tell her that if anyone asks questions, she should say she never knew about the accounts.""
I gripped the phone.
"He wants her to take the blame?""
"He says the university records are her responsibility because she worked with the paperwork.""
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
My father had used my identity to obtain money, forged documents to make me appear responsible, and now seemed prepared to abandon my mother when the scheme began collapsing.
I wondered whether Mom finally understood what she'd helped create.
"Patricia, I need you to send Rachel everything you know. Not just the records involving me. Everything involving Daniel, too.""
"I will.""
"And Patricia?""
"Yes?""
"You need to tell the truth about your own role. You can't expect everyone else to pay for your decisions.""
"I understand.""
We ended the call.
I immediately contacted Rachel and explained what Patricia had told me. She agreed to arrange a meeting with Daniel and advised me not to confront my father about his travel plans.
That evening, I returned to my hotel and found an email from Dr. Williams.
The university's compliance office had identified a pattern of suspicious financial aid transactions connected to my account and Daniel's. The investigators were preserving the records and coordinating with the appropriate authorities.
There was also a separate message from the lender.
The disputed business credit application remained on hold. No funds had been released, and the lender had flagged the application for suspected identity fraud.
For the first time, one of my father's plans had failed before it could hurt me further.
I sat on the bed and let out a long breath.
Then I opened the email from Daniel.
He had attached a scanned letter dated three years earlier.
Dear Daniel,
This letter confirms that all outstanding amounts associated with the private loan you provided to Carter Family Holdings have been repaid in full. You have no further financial obligations to the company.
The letter was signed by my father.
Beneath his signature was a witness statement.
I confirm that the repayment described above was completed.
The witness was Linda Carter.
My mother.
I stared at her name.
The letter claimed Daniel's debts had been settled, yet he'd continued receiving collection notices.
Someone had used the letter to make him believe the matter was closed. Someone had then apparently used his name to secure more financing.
I forwarded the document to Rachel.
A few minutes later, my phone rang.
Mom.
I almost ignored it.
Then I answered.
"Emily," she whispered.
"Your father says you're trying to have him arrested.""
"I'm reporting suspected financial fraud. What happens after that isn't my decision.""
"You don't understand what he's capable of.""
The fear in her voice sounded genuine.
"Then tell me the truth.""
She began crying.
"I signed the documents because he said the money was temporary. He promised that once the business recovered, he would repay everything. He said nobody would be harmed.""
"But you knew I hadn't authorized the loans.""
"Yes.""
"You knew the scholarship refunds weren't going to me.""
"Yes.""
"You watched me work night shifts to pay my tuition while money in my name was being transferred into your accounts.""
She made a small, broken sound.
"Yes.""
I stared at the ceiling.
For years, I'd imagined that if Mom ever admitted what she'd done, the truth would somehow make everything less painful.
It didn't.
It only removed the last excuse I had left for her.
"Why?"" I asked.
"Because I was afraid of losing everything.""
"And you decided I was the easiest person to sacrifice.""
"No, sweetheart—"
"Don't call me that.""
She fell silent.
I swallowed hard.
"You weren't protecting the family, Mom. You were protecting the life you wanted to keep. You protected the house, the cars, Dad's business, and Madison's comfort. You protected everything except me.""
"I know.""
"Do you?""
She sobbed.
"I don't know how to fix this.""
"You start by telling the truth.""
After a long silence, she whispered, "Your father has another document. He says it's proof that you agreed to the loans.""
"What document?""
"I don't know exactly. He keeps it in his office. But I heard him tell his lawyer that it contains your original signature.""
My blood ran cold.
"Mom, if he has an original document, I need to know what it is.""
She hesitated.
Then she said, "It's the form you signed the night you came home from your first semester.""
The room seemed to tilt.
The form Dad had described as a household emergency contact.
The form I remembered signing while exhausted and upset.
"Did you see it?""
"Yes.""
"What did it say?""
Her voice dropped to a whisper.
"It gave your father permission to manage certain financial matters on your behalf.""
"Did it authorize loans?""
"I don't know.""
"Mom, you signed the verification documents. You helped redirect my money. You have to know.""
"I didn't read every page.""
The excuse was so familiar that I almost laughed.
I had spent my life reading every page because I couldn't afford to make mistakes.
My mother had signed away my future without bothering to do the same.
"Where is the original document now?"" I asked.
"In your father's office.""
"Can you get it?""
"I'll try.""
"No. Don't take anything or risk destroying evidence. Tell Rachel what you know and let her handle it.""
She agreed quietly.
Before ending the call, she said, "Emily, I never wanted you to get hurt.""
I looked at the graduate appointment letter beside my laptop.
"Wanting not to hurt me wasn't enough, Mom. You had to choose not to.""
I ended the call.
Then I opened my email and wrote to Rachel.
I believe the original authorization form may be critical. My mother confirms that it exists and says my father is keeping it in his office.
I attached every relevant message.
For the first time, I wasn't chasing the truth alone.
Daniel was ready to speak.
Patricia was prepared to provide records.
Madison had handed over bank statements.
And Ryan had finally agreed to tell investigators what he knew.
My father was running out of people willing to protect him.
But at 11:26 p.m., an email arrived from an address I didn't recognize.
It contained a single attachment and one sentence.
Before you accuse your father of forging your signature, you should see what you actually signed.
I opened the attachment.
It was a scanned copy of the original authorization form.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
So did the date.
But above my signature was a paragraph that made my stomach turn.
The document didn't authorize my father to borrow money.
It authorized him to act as my financial representative for a limited purpose.
And beneath that paragraph, someone had added a second page.
A page I had never seen before.
The signature on that page was mine, too.
Except the date showed it had supposedly been signed six months after I had left home for college.
May you like
I was hundreds of miles away.
And I had never returned to Georgia that week.
