Chapter 6: The Signature That Wasn’t Mine
I stared at the document.
My signature.
My name.
My handwriting.
But the words beneath it felt like they belonged to someone else.
“This isn’t real.””
Sloan watched me carefully.
“Are you sure?””
I picked up the paper.
My hands were shaking.
The document claimed I had agreed to transfer ownership of my husband’s business assets after his death.
Assets I had never touched.
Money I had never received.
“This is fake.””
Sloan smiled.
“That’s what people say when they get caught.””
I looked up sharply.
“You created this.””
Her expression remained calm.
“You really think I’m capable of that?””
“Yes.””
For the first time, she looked offended.
Not hurt.
Offended.
“You have no idea who I am.””
I almost laughed.
“No. I think I know exactly who you are.””
She stepped closer.
“You’re an old woman who thinks everyone should be grateful because you sacrificed everything.””
My jaw tightened.
“You don’t know anything about my life.””
“I know you kept a secret from Harrison.””
“That doesn’t make you right.””
“It makes you weak.””
Those words stayed with me.
Because they were cruel.
But they also reminded me of something.
Sloan had always confused kindness with weakness.
She thought patience meant surrender.
She thought silence meant fear.
I placed the document back on the counter.
“Where did you get this?””
She looked away.
A tiny reaction.
But I noticed.
“Who helped you?””
“Nobody.””
“Then why are you so confident?””
She didn’t answer.
My phone rang.
I looked at the screen.
Harrison.
I answered immediately.
“Hello?””
His voice was tense.
“Mom, where are you?””
“I’m at Sloan’s house.””
A pause.
“Why?””
Before I could respond, Sloan walked closer.
“Because she finally found out.””
Harrison heard her.
“What did she find out?””
I looked at Sloan.
She smiled.
“Tell him.””
I gripped the phone.
“Harrison, your wife has a document with my forged signature.””
Silence.
Then:
“What?””
Sloan grabbed the phone from my hand.
“Don’t listen to her.””
I reached for it.
She stepped back.
“Harrison, your mother has been lying to you for years.””
“Sloan, give me the phone.””
Her voice changed.
Softer.
More emotional.
“She hid your father’s letter.””
Harrison said something I couldn’t hear.
Then Sloan looked at me.
And smiled.
“She’s scared because your father wrote the truth.””
My heart stopped.
Because that was the first time Sloan had said it.
Not “a secret.””
Not “something she hid.””
The truth.
I looked at her.
“You don’t know what was in that letter.””
Her smile faded.
Just slightly.
Then she said:
“I know enough.””
That answer bothered me.
Because if she had actually read the letter…
Why was she still pretending?
Unless…
She hadn’t seen everything.
I stepped forward.
“Where is the rest of it?””
Sloan’s face changed.
Only for a second.
But I saw fear.
Real fear.
And then her phone buzzed.
She looked down.
Her expression turned pale.
I watched her read the message.
Then she slowly looked back at me.
“Who sent that?”” I asked.
She didn’t answer.
Because whatever was on that screen had changed everything.
Harrison’s voice came through the phone.
“Mom?””
I stared at Sloan.
“Who texted you?””
Her fingers tightened around the phone.
Then she whispered:
“Your husband.””
My blood ran cold.
Because my husband had been dead for eight years.
May you like
And somehow…
He had just sent Sloan a message. :::
