Chapter 5: The Money Hidden in Her Name
The emergency room smelled of disinfectant and burnt coffee.
I sat on the examination bed wearing one of the hospital's thin blankets while a nurse checked my temperature.
Dad stood beside me, still wearing the suit he'd traveled home in.
He hadn't let go of my hand once.
"Your daughter has a significant fever," the doctor explained.
"She's dehydrated, exhausted, and showing signs of prolonged exposure to cold.""
Dad's face tightened.
"Will she be okay?""
"We're treating her now. She needs fluids, rest, and observation.""
I looked at him.
"I'm sorry.""
He immediately turned toward me.
"Sorry for what?""
"For making you come home early.""
Dad stared at me as if I'd said something unbearable.
"Emily, listen to me. You never apologize for needing your father.""
My eyes filled.
He brushed a strand of hair away from my face.
"I should have been there.""
"You didn't know.""
"I should have checked.""
I squeezed his hand.
For the first time in four days, I felt safe.
Then his phone rang.
It was the attorney again.
Dad stepped toward the window.
"Tell me what you found.""
I could hear the attorney's voice.
"The second transfer was made three weeks after the first. It came from an account associated with the estate.""
"Who authorized it?""
"According to the bank records, the authorization was submitted through a financial power-of-attorney document.""
Dad frowned.
"Emily never gave Vanessa power of attorney.""
"Correct. But there's a document in the file claiming that she did.""
I sat up.
"What document?""
Dad covered the phone.
"Don't worry, sweetheart.""
But I could tell he was worried.
He returned to the call.
"Send me everything.""
A few minutes later, an email arrived.
Dad opened the attachment.
It contained a scanned document with my name at the top.
My signature appeared beneath a statement authorizing Vanessa to manage my inheritance.
I stared at it.
"That's not mine.""
Dad looked at me.
"I know.""
"I've never seen that paper.""
He enlarged the signature.
Something about it looked familiar.
Then I remembered.
"Wait.""
Dad leaned closer.
"What?""
"That looks like the signature from my school registration.""
He frowned.
"Which registration?""
"When I started high school. Vanessa filled out the paperwork because you were working.""
Dad's face became still.
"Are you saying she copied your signature?""
"I don't know. But it looks exactly like it.""
The attorney, still on speaker, heard everything.
"Michael, that's important. We need to preserve the original school records as well.""
Dad nodded.
"Can you investigate the document's submission history?""
"Already requested.""
A message arrived while we were talking.
Dad opened it.
Then he went completely silent.
"What?"" I asked.
He turned the phone toward me.
It was a bank statement.
The second transfer of $75,000 had gone into a private account belonging to Vanessa.
But there was something else.
The account had been opened only two months after Vanessa married my father.
Dad whispered, "She planned this.""
I didn't know what to say.
He sat beside me.
"Emily, I need to ask you something.""
"Okay.""
"Did Vanessa ever take you to a bank or ask you to sign anything?""
I shook my head.
"Not a bank.""
"Anything else?""
I thought carefully.
Then I remembered an afternoon in September.
Vanessa had come into my bedroom carrying a stack of papers.
She'd told me Dad needed my signature for some household documents.
I had been doing homework.
She placed a yellow sticky note beside several signature lines.
"Just sign where I've marked, sweetheart. It's boring adult paperwork.""
I had signed three pages without reading them.
Dad's expression darkened.
"Do you remember what the papers looked like?""
"Some had the bank's name. Others looked like legal forms.""
He closed his eyes.
"Why didn't you tell me?""
"I didn't think it mattered.""
The attorney interrupted.
"Michael, please don't blame Emily. She's a minor. If documents were presented to her under false pretenses, that's something investigators need to know.""
Dad nodded.
"You're right.""
Then another call came through.
The hospital receptionist handed Dad a message.
"There's a woman downstairs asking for you. She says she's your wife.""
Vanessa.
Dad stood.
"Tell her I'm not available.""
The receptionist hesitated.
"She says it's urgent.""
Dad looked at me.
"I'll be right back.""
He walked into the hallway.
Through the glass, I watched him speaking to Vanessa.
She was wearing the same cream coat she'd worn that morning. Her makeup was smudged, and her hair was coming loose.
She kept pointing toward the hospital room.
Dad shook his head.
Then she pulled something from her handbag.
A folded document.
He took it.
His expression changed.
A few seconds later, he came back into the room.
"Emily, I need you to stay here.""
"What happened?""
He placed the paper on the bedside table.
It was a letter from Vanessa.
At the top, she had written:
To My Husband.
Dad read the final paragraph aloud.
"If you involve the authorities, I will have no choice but to reveal what Laura told me before she died.""
My stomach dropped.
"What did Mom tell her?""
Dad looked at me.
"I don't know.""
Then his phone rang again.
This time, it was Brittany.
Dad answered.
"Hello?""
Her voice was trembling.
"Michael, you need to come home.""
"Why?""
"Mom is destroying something in the bedroom.""
"What is she destroying?""
Brittany started crying.
"The papers. The old letters. And there's one with Emily's name on it.""
Dad stood so quickly that his chair scraped across the floor.
"What letter?""
May you like
Brittany whispered something that made him go completely still.
"It's the one Grandma Laura told Mom never to open.""
