Chapter 4
The video ended.
No one moved.
Michael stared at Ethan’s phone as if it had become a weapon.
I heard my own heartbeat.
“What DNA test?”
Ethan shook his head.
“I don’t know.”
Michael took the phone.
He replayed the clip.
Diane’s voice filled the backyard again.
“The DNA test should arrive Friday. If it proves what I think it proves, Michael won’t have a family left to choose.”
Then another voice came faintly through the speaker.
We couldn’t understand the words.
Diane answered.
“No, he has no idea.”
Michael paused the video.
He looked at me.
“Do you?”
“No.”
He searched my face.
I understood why.
His mother had just spent hours accusing me of destroying his family.
Now there was a secret DNA test.
The implication was obvious.
My anger rose.
“If you’re about to ask whether Lily and Ethan are yours, ask.”
Michael flinched.
“Sarah.”
“Ask.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were thinking it.”
He looked away.
That was answer enough.
I stepped back.
Rachel touched my shoulder.
Michael immediately shook his head.
“No. I’m sorry.”
“Your mother wanted this.”
“I know.”
“She wanted you to doubt me.”
“I know.”
“And it worked for three seconds.”
He looked devastated.
“I’m sorry.”
Lily pulled at my shirt.
“Mommy, what is DNA?”
I crouched quickly.
“Nothing you need to worry about.”
“Is Grandma mad because of my hair?”
My chest broke.
“No, baby.”
“Did I do something bad?”
“No.”
I held her face in my hands.
“You did nothing wrong.”
“Promise?”
“I promise.”
Ethan stepped beside her.
“Grandma lied.”
Lily looked at him.
“I know.”
Her little voice made everyone quiet.
“I saw her face.”
I hugged both children.
Michael crouched beside us.
Lily hesitated.
Then reached for him.
He held her.
His eyes filled with tears.
“I’m sorry I opened your backpack.”
She whispered, “You thought I stole it.”
Michael shut his eyes.
“I should have believed you.”
“You didn’t.”
“No.”
He kissed her forehead.
“I was wrong.”
That simple admission seemed harder for him than anything else.
After the guests finally left, Jason stayed.
So did Rachel.
The four adults sat around our kitchen table while the children slept upstairs.
Michael called Daniel Harper again.
The attorney answered immediately.
“We found another problem,” Michael said.
“What problem?”
“My mother ordered a DNA test.”
Daniel became silent.
“What kind?”
“We don’t know.”
“Did she have access to the children?”
“She babysat them last weekend.”
I felt sick saying it.
“She could have taken hair.”
“Or toothbrushes,” Jason said.
I looked toward the upstairs bathroom.
Daniel asked, “Do you know where she sent the samples?”
“No.”
“Check her messages if you have lawful access. Otherwise, wait for the results.”
Michael rubbed his forehead.
“Why would she do this?”
Daniel sighed.
“There may be a trust-related reason.”
My stomach tightened.
“What reason?”
“The grandchildren’s accounts.”
Michael leaned forward.
“You said Dad left money for future grandchildren.”
“Yes.”
“What does DNA have to do with that?”
“The trust defines eligible beneficiaries as biological descendants.”
I stared at the phone.
Diane wasn’t just trying to hurt us emotionally.
She was trying to control money.
Again.
Daniel continued.
“If Diane believed she could challenge the children’s eligibility, she might be trying to redirect those funds.”
“To herself?”
“Possibly.”
Michael looked sick.
“How much remains in the grandchildren’s trust?”
“I need updated accounting.”
“Guess.”
“Several hundred thousand dollars.”
Jason let out a long breath.
Rachel whispered, “This woman is unbelievable.”
Daniel continued.
“But there is another issue.”
“What?”
“Your father amended the trust shortly before his death.”
Diane had apparently never mentioned that.
“What amendment?”
“It states that if Diane attempts to interfere unlawfully with a beneficiary’s rights, her administrative authority terminates.”
Michael sat straighter.
“She had authority?”
“Limited authority. Your father named her co-administrator with a bank representative.”
Monica.
Suddenly everything connected.
“That’s why Monica called,” I said.
Daniel agreed.
“The bank likely flagged the transfer.”
Michael stood.
“So Mom could lose control of everything.”
“Yes.”
“If we prove she interfered.”
“Yes.”
I thought about the planted money.
The DNA test.
The secret transfers.
“Would trying to frame Lily count?”
Daniel paused.
“Not directly.”
“What about moving Lily’s money?”
“That may.”
Michael began pacing.
“And the forged property papers?”
“That would be much more serious.”
Jason looked at him.
“Can we prove they’re forged?”
Daniel said, “Possibly.”
“How?”
“The original signature samples still exist.”
“From twenty years ago?”
“Yes.”
“Why didn’t anyone investigate then?”
Daniel’s voice lowered.
“Because your mother threatened me.”
Michael stopped.
“With what?”
“My career.”
“How?”
“She accused me of having an inappropriate relationship with your father.”
Jason frowned.
“What kind of relationship?”
Daniel hesitated.
“Not romantic.”
“Then what?”
“She claimed I pressured him into changing his estate while he was medically impaired.”
Michael looked at me.
Daniel continued.
“She threatened to sue, report me to the bar, and publicly accuse me of exploiting a dying man.”
“So you backed off.”
“I did.”
Michael’s jaw clenched.
Daniel did not defend himself.
“I regret it.”
Michael said nothing.
“I was younger,” Daniel continued. “I had two children. A new practice. I convinced myself the boys would eventually discover the truth through the bank.”
“But we didn’t.”
“No.”
“Because she controlled everything.”
“Yes.”
Michael stopped pacing.
“Then help us now.”
“I intend to.”
The next morning, Michael and I went to the bank.
Jason came too.
Monica met us in a private office.
She was in her forties, nervous but determined.
“I could lose my job for calling you.”
Michael sat down.
“Why did you?”
She looked at a photograph on her desk.
Two children.
“I have daughters.”
Her eyes moved to me.
“When Diane attempted to move money from a five-year-old’s account without parental authorization, I couldn’t ignore it.”
“Was the transfer legal?”
“No.”
Michael leaned forward.
“How did she do it?”
“She claimed you were incapacitated.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
Monica opened a folder.
“She provided a physician’s letter stating Michael had suffered cognitive impairment after a workplace accident.”
Michael laughed in disbelief.
“I’ve never had a workplace accident.”
“We confirmed that.”
“Whose doctor signed it?”
Monica slid a copy across the table.
Michael read the name.
Then his face changed.
“Dr. Reynolds.”
I knew the name.
Diane’s cousin.
He had retired two years ago.
Jason cursed.
“He signed this?”
Monica shook her head.
“The letter is dated three months ago.”
Michael stared at her.
“He died last year.”
“Yes.”
Forged again.
Monica opened another document.
“She also presented a temporary financial guardianship form.”
I looked at Michael.
“You never signed that.”
“No.”
The signature looked like his.
But it wasn’t.
Jason leaned closer.
“She’s been practicing.”
Michael looked at him.
“What?”
Jason pointed at the signature.
“Mom used to sign school forms for you when Dad was alive.”
Michael’s face tightened.
“That doesn’t mean—”
“She can copy your signature.”
Monica looked uncomfortable.
“There’s more.”
Of course there was.
She handed me a photocopy.
It was a request to change the mailing address for Ethan’s and Lily’s trust statements.
The new address was Diane’s house.
The request was dated four years earlier.
I stared at it.
“Lily was one.”
“Yes.”
“Michael’s signature?”
“Yes.”
He looked at the page.
“I didn’t sign this.”
Monica nodded.
“We believe that.”
Michael leaned back.
“So she’s been hiding statements for four years.”
“Longer.”
“How much longer?”
Monica pulled another file.
“The original grandchildren’s account was established when Ethan was born.”
Nine years.
Nine years of statements had gone to Diane.
Nine years of control.
Michael covered his face.
I wanted to scream.
Instead I asked, “Did she take money?”
Monica hesitated.
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Approximately sixty-eight thousand dollars over nine years.”
Michael dropped his hands.
“For what?”
“She categorized withdrawals as educational expenses.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Ethan attends public school.”
“Some expenses could be legitimate.”
“They aren’t.”
Monica showed us the list.
Private tutoring.
Summer enrichment.
Music academies.
Educational travel.
None of it had happened.
Then I saw one charge.
Fourteen thousand dollars.
“European cultural program.”
Michael stared.
“My mother went to Italy that year.”
Jason laughed once.
Coldly.
“She paid for her vacation with Ethan’s trust.”
Monica said nothing.
She didn’t need to.
Michael stood and walked to the window.
I could see his reflection.
He looked twenty years older.
Then Monica’s phone rang.
She answered.
“Yes?”
She listened.
Her eyes widened.
“When?”
Another pause.
“Don’t approve anything.”
She hung up.
“What happened?” I asked.
Monica looked at Michael.
“Your mother is at another branch.”
His face hardened.
“What is she doing?”
“She’s trying to withdraw the rest of Ethan’s account.”
“Right now?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
Monica glanced at the computer.
“One hundred eighty-two thousand dollars.”
Michael grabbed his keys.
Monica stood quickly.
“You don’t need to go there.”
“Yes, I do.”
“The bank will stop it.”
“This isn’t about the money anymore.”
I stood.
“What are you going to do?”
He looked at me.
“Ask her why.”
Jason laughed bitterly.
“You still think she’s going to tell you?”
Michael’s expression turned cold.
“No.”
May you like
He held up the forged paperwork.
“But I think she’ll tell the police.”
