Chapter 2: The Second Signature
"Brittany Carter," the manager repeated.
"She was listed as a witness on the vehicle transfer documents.""
Brittany's face drained of color.
Vanessa immediately stepped between her daughter and my father.
"That doesn't mean anything. Brittany was just there to help me.""
Dad didn't look away from her.
"Help you do what?""
"Michael, please. This is getting blown completely out of proportion.""
"Then it should be easy to explain.""
The manager cleared his throat.
"There's something else. The dealership's security cameras show both women arriving together. The paperwork was presented by Mrs. Carter, but Miss Brittany Carter was present when the signatures were completed.""
My stomach twisted.
"Completed by whom?"" I asked.
The manager paused.
"We're reviewing that footage now.""
Dad's voice became colder.
"Preserve every document and every second of that recording. Nobody deletes anything. Do you understand?""
"Yes, sir.""
"And do not release the proceeds from that sale until this matter is investigated.""
"Understood.""
Dad ended the call.
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The refrigerator hummed. Somewhere outside, a lawn mower buzzed along the neighboring property.
Brittany stared at the floor.
Vanessa crossed her arms.
Then she said the one thing that made me realize she still didn't understand what she'd done.
"Michael, it was only a twenty-thousand-dollar car. We got a fair price, and Brittany needed something dependable. I don't understand why you're acting as though we've committed a crime.""
Dad slowly turned toward her.
"Because you sold property that wasn't yours.""
"I am your wife!""
"And Emily is my daughter.""
Vanessa flinched.
It was the first time I'd heard him say it like that since Mom died—not as an obligation, not as a reminder, but as a line he was finally willing to defend.
I looked down at the old title in my hands.
Mom's signature appeared near the bottom, written in the careful handwriting she had used during her last months. She had transferred the car to me six weeks before she died.
I remembered sitting beside her hospital bed while Dad explained the paperwork.
"Your mother wants you to have something that's yours," he'd said.
Mom had squeezed my hand.
"Not because you need to hold on to the past, sweetheart. Because you deserve to know that something good can belong to you without anyone being allowed to take it away.""
I'd cried then.
I was crying now.
Dad noticed.
He came around the counter and put an arm around my shoulders.
"I'm sorry, Em.""
Vanessa made an irritated sound.
"Oh, don't do that. Don't make her think she's some victim because she didn't get her way.""
Dad's head snapped toward her.
"Enough.""
Brittany suddenly burst out, "Mom said it was legal!""
Every face turned toward her.
Vanessa stared at her daughter.
"Brittany, stop talking.""
But Brittany had already begun shaking.
"You told me Emily had agreed to sell it. You said Dad knew about the money, and the SUV was supposed to be a surprise.""
Dad's expression darkened.
"I knew nothing about the Toyota being sold.""
Brittany's eyes filled with tears.
"You told me that the title was basically yours because Emily lives here.""
Vanessa grabbed her daughter's wrist.
"Go upstairs.""
Brittany pulled free.
"No! You said it was fine!""
For the first time, Vanessa looked genuinely afraid.
I took a step toward her.
"Did you tell Brittany I gave you permission?""
Vanessa lifted her chin.
"You're twisting everything.""
"Did you?""
"Emily, you need to calm down.""
"Answer me!""
She slapped her palm against the counter.
"I did what was best for this family!""
The words hung in the air.
Dad stared at her.
"You sold Sarah's car to buy your daughter an SUV and forged Emily's name, and you're calling that what's best for this family?""
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
"Don't bring Sarah into this.""
"Sarah's name was on the title before she gave the car to Emily.""
"Sarah has been dead for four years!"" Vanessa shouted.
"Four years, Michael! And somehow, everything still revolves around her!""
The silence afterward was so complete that I could hear Brittany's keys rattling as her hands shook.
Dad looked at Vanessa as though he were seeing her clearly for the first time.
"That," he said quietly, "is exactly the problem.""
Vanessa's expression crumpled for a fraction of a second before she recovered.
She pointed at me.
"She has manipulated you from the beginning. Every time something happens, she cries about her mother, and you rush to rescue her.""
I wiped my cheeks.
"I didn't ask you to rescue me. I asked you not to steal my car.""
"You have a roof over your head because of me!""
"My father pays the mortgage.""
"And I run this household!""
Dad stepped between us.
"Not anymore. Not until I understand what happened.""
Vanessa stared at him in disbelief.
"You're threatening your marriage over a used Toyota?""
"No. I'm questioning my marriage because my wife may have committed fraud against my daughter.""
She laughed sharply.
"You wouldn't dare.""
Dad reached for his phone again.
"I don't need to dare. I need to find out the truth.""
Vanessa snatched her purse from the chair.
"Fine. Investigate me. Call the police.
Destroy this family. See if I care.""
She stormed toward the hallway, but Dad's voice stopped her.
"Where is the money from the sale?""
Vanessa froze.
"I used it.""
"Where?""
"On Brittany's car, obviously.""
Dad glanced at the SUV keys.
"You told me you'd saved enough for the down payment.""
"I did.""
"Then the Toyota money wasn't needed for the down payment.""
Vanessa's lips parted.
For the first time, she had no quick answer.
Dad repeated his question.
"Where did the money go?""
She looked toward the stairs.
Then, almost imperceptibly, she glanced at Brittany.
I caught it.
So did Dad.
He turned to his stepdaughter.
"Brittany, did your mother give you any money from the sale?""
Brittany shook her head quickly.
"No.""
"Did she tell you where it went?""
"No.""
Vanessa's voice cracked like a whip.
"That is enough!""
But Brittany was staring at her mother now, not her stepfather.
"Mom," she whispered, "you said the money would cover the other payment.""
Vanessa went completely still.
Dad took one slow step toward her.
"What other payment?""
Vanessa's eyes darted toward the kitchen window.
Then she reached for her purse again.
Dad moved the purse out of reach.
"Nobody is leaving until we finish this conversation.""
She stared at him with naked hatred.
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into.""
Dad's phone vibrated.
The dealership manager had sent an email containing a photograph of the documents.
Dad opened it.
At the bottom of the page, beneath my forged signature, was a second authorization form.
His face changed as he read it.
"Emily," he said, "come look at this.""
I moved beside him.
The form wasn't about selling the car.
It was a request to transfer the sale proceeds to a bank account I had never seen.
The account holder's name was printed in bold.
Vanessa's name wasn't there.
Neither was Brittany's.
The account belonged to someone named Daniel Reeves.
Dad looked up sharply.
"Who is Daniel Reeves?""
May you like
Vanessa stopped breathing for a moment.
And Brittany whispered, "Oh, no.""
