Chapter 6: The Signature I Never Wrote
I stared at the document until the letters blurred.
My name appeared at the top of the page.
Emily Carter.
Beneath it was my date of birth, my home address, and the last four digits of my bank account.
Then came the signature.
It looked like mine.
The capital E curved the same way. The final r in Carter trailed beneath the line, just as it did when I signed school forms.
But I had never signed that document.
"Dad," I whispered, "what is this?""
He took the phone from me and enlarged the image.
"It's a retainer agreement.""
"For what?""
"Legal services connected to a marriage dissolution and asset transfer.""
I swallowed.
"Whose marriage?""
He read the page again.
Then his expression changed.
"Vanessa and me.""
I felt sick.
The agreement had been prepared three weeks earlier. It authorized a law firm to represent Vanessa in a planned separation from my father.
A separate page instructed the firm to transfer a portion of the remaining funds in my account to cover the legal expenses.
The signature at the bottom purported to give permission.
Mine.
"She was going to use my money to divorce you?"" I asked.
Dad didn't answer immediately.
He was staring at the signature.
"I need to know whether she forged this.""
"I didn't sign it.""
"I believe you.""
He said it so quickly that I looked at him.
"You do?""
"Emily, you don't need to prove to me that you didn't sign something you never saw.""
My eyes stung.
For years, I'd learned to defend myself against Vanessa's accusations. If a glass went missing, I'd hidden it. If Madison lost a bracelet, I'd borrowed it. If something broke, I'd been careless.
I hadn't realized how much I'd started expecting Dad to doubt me.
He handed me the phone.
"We'll take this to the bank and the lawyer tomorrow. Don't sign anything else, and don't let anyone pressure you into agreeing to something you don't understand.""
I nodded.
Then I noticed the law firm's address.
It was in the same building as the boutique where Vanessa had purchased the designer wedding gown.
That couldn't be a coincidence.
"Why would she buy a wedding dress and hire a divorce lawyer at the same time?""
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"I don't know. But I intend to find out.""
A floorboard creaked upstairs.
Madison stood halfway down the staircase, clutching the blue ribbon from the box of letters.
"She used my name, too," she said.
Dad looked up.
"What do you mean?""
Madison descended slowly.
"I found another document in the box. It was inside an envelope addressed to me.""
She handed him a folded sheet of paper.
At the top was the name of a financial services company. Below it was a request to establish a new account in Madison's name.
The date was six weeks earlier.
Madison's signature appeared at the bottom.
"I never signed that," she said.
Dad examined it.
"Did you give your mother permission to open an account for you?""
"No.""
"Did you know about it?""
Madison shook her head.
Her voice broke.
"She told me she was saving money for my college. She said she was putting aside a little every month.""
I looked at the paperwork.
There was a list of deposits.
The amounts varied, but one recurring transfer stood out.
Three thousand dollars.
Every month.
The money came from an account bearing Daniel Brooks's name.
Madison sank onto the couch.
"She told me he was dead.""
Dad pulled up a chair.
"Madison, I need you to tell me exactly what you know. Don't guess. Just tell me what happened.""
She stared at her hands.
"Last year, Mom started taking phone calls outside. She said she was dealing with a problem at work. Then she started buying things she couldn't explain.""
Her eyes flicked toward the empty space where the fire had burned.
"She told me Dad was giving her extra money. She said he wanted me to have nice things because he knew I was going to graduate soon.""
Dad's jaw tightened.
"Did she ever tell you she was planning to leave me?""
"No.""
Madison took a shaky breath.
"But a few weeks ago, I heard her talking to someone about a house.""
"What house?""
"I don't know. She said it was small, but it would be enough for the two of us. She said she'd have everything settled before graduation.""
I felt a cold shiver crawl up my arms.
Vanessa had been planning to leave.
She'd been sending money to Daniel, buying a wedding dress, and arranging a divorce. Meanwhile, she had been using my savings and apparently opening financial accounts under Madison's name.
She hadn't just been stealing money.
She'd been building another life while making us believe we were the problem.
Dad stood and paced to the window.
"Did she say when she planned to move?""
Madison shook her head.
"She said the wedding was in six weeks.""
"To Daniel?""
"I think so.""
Dad turned around.
"Did she tell you why?""
Madison's face crumpled.
"She said she wanted us to be a real family.""
I looked at her.
"Didn't she already have a family?""
Madison gave a small, broken laugh.
"Apparently not the one she wanted.""
For the first time, I saw how much she had inherited from her mother without realizing it.
The expensive clothes. The entitlement. The belief that a beautiful life could be purchased, even if someone else had to pay for it.
But Madison was also seventeen.
She had believed her mother when she was told that her father was dead. She'd believed the money came from Dad. And she'd believed she was being given things because she was loved.
That didn't excuse what she'd done to me.
But it explained why her face looked so devastated.
Dad picked up his phone.
"I'm calling the bank first thing in the morning. Then I'm contacting the attorney who handles my business accounts.""
He looked at me.
"Your graduation comes first. We can deal with the rest afterward.""
I glanced at the clock.
It was nearly midnight.
"I don't have a dress.""
Dad's expression softened.
"We'll find one.""
"There's no time.""
"Then we'll make time.""
Madison suddenly stood.
"I have something.""
We both turned toward her.
She hesitated, then hurried upstairs.
A minute later, she returned carrying a large garment bag.
Inside was a simple pale-blue dress.
It wasn't the designer gown Vanessa had bought. It looked like something Madison had worn to a school awards ceremony.
"I never wore it," she said.
"Mom bought it last year, but I didn't like the color.""
She held it out to me.
"You can have it.""
I stared at the dress.
"Why?""
"Because you need something to wear.""
She swallowed.
"And because I can't undo what I did. But I can stop making things worse.""
I took the garment bag.
The dress was beautiful.
It wasn't the white dress I'd saved eight months to buy. It wasn't the dress I'd imagined wearing while my father took pictures outside the school auditorium.
But it was clean, intact, and offered without a demand.
"Thank you," I whispered.
Madison nodded and looked away.
Dad put an arm around my shoulders.
"Tomorrow, you're walking across that stage. Nothing Vanessa did changes what you've accomplished.""
For the first time that night, I believed him.
I went upstairs, hung the blue dress beside my bed, and tried to sleep.
At 6:12 the next morning, someone knocked on my bedroom door.
Dad stood in the hallway, already dressed.
"Emily, we have a problem.""
My heart dropped.
"What happened?""
He held up his phone.
The bank had frozen the suspicious transactions.
But the attorney had called him back with something even more disturbing.
The divorce paperwork wasn't merely a draft.
It had already been filed.
And attached to the filing was a sworn statement claiming that my father had knowingly authorized every transfer from my college account.
There was also a second statement, supposedly signed by me.
It claimed that I'd voluntarily given Vanessa permission to use my savings.
I stared at the page.
At the bottom, beneath my forged signature, was a sentence that made my stomach turn.
It said I had received the full benefit of the money.
Dad looked at me.
"Emily, we need to find out who witnessed this statement.""
He scrolled down to the final page.
A name appeared beneath the witness signature.
*Madison Brooks.*
May you like
I turned toward my stepsister's closed bedroom door.
And suddenly, I wasn't sure whether she had been telling us the truth at all.
