Chapter 7: The Man Who Was at My Birth
I had imagined finding out something terrible about my family a hundred different ways.
I had imagined discovering that Laura had lied about my savings, that Tyler had hidden more gambling debts, or that Dad had kept some financial mistake from me.
I had never imagined sitting on the edge of my bed while my father admitted he didn't know whether he was my biological father.
“Tell me everything,” I said.
Dad rubbed both hands over his face. The photograph remained open on my phone between us, showing my mother holding me in the hospital bed while Peter Reeves stood beside her.
“I need you to understand something first,” Dad said.
“I never questioned that you were my daughter. Your mother told me you were mine, and I believed her.””
“But now you think she lied?””
“I don't know what to think.””
The answer hurt more than I expected.
I stood and walked toward the window. Outside, the streetlights reflected off the wet pavement. Somewhere in the neighborhood, a dog barked twice and fell silent.
“Did you know Peter?”” I asked.
“Yes. He was Daniel's younger brother. He worked with your mother on a charitable foundation before you were born.””
“What kind of foundation?””
“It helped families with medical expenses. Your mother volunteered there for years.””
“Was she having an affair with him?””
Dad flinched.
“I don't know.””
I turned around.
“You keep saying that.””
“Because it's the truth, Emma. I won't invent an answer just to make this conversation easier.””
My phone buzzed again.
The unknown sender had sent another message.
Your mother left instructions for the money to belong to you. Laura wasn't the first person who tried to change the beneficiary.
Dad took the phone from me and photographed the messages.
“Don't reply,” he said.
“We need to preserve everything.””
“Whoever this is knows about the account. They know about Mom. They know where we live.””
“I know.””
“And they're sending me pictures of my birth.””
His expression tightened.
“I know, sweetheart.””
He called his attorney, who told him to report the messages and avoid contacting either Daniel or Peter directly until the identities and financial records could be verified.
After the call, Dad sat beside me.
“Tomorrow, we'll find out what we can through legitimate records. No more guessing.””
I nodded, although I wasn't sure I could wait until morning.
At eight the next day, Dad drove me to his attorney's office. Tyler came too, carrying a folder of printed messages and photographs. He looked exhausted, with dark circles beneath his eyes.
The attorney, Ms. Bennett, was a sharp-eyed woman in her fifties who spoke quietly and never seemed to waste a word.
She reviewed the documents one by one.
“First,” she said, “we need to separate three issues. The money stolen from Emma's account, the questionable estate documents, and the claim about her biological parentage. They may be connected, but we cannot assume they are.””
Dad nodded.
“What can you establish from the records?””
“Not enough yet. We can request authenticated copies from the financial institutions, examine the signatures, and determine whether any beneficiary changes were actually accepted.””
She turned to me.
“Emma, did you ever sign anything authorizing Laura to access your savings?””
“No.””
“Did you give her your banking password?””
“No. She had access to the family computer sometimes, but I never gave her permission to transfer money.””
Ms. Bennett wrote something down.
“That distinction matters.””
Tyler leaned forward.
“Can we find out who received the five-thousand-dollar transfer?””
“We've requested the transaction records. The bank may be able to identify the receiving institution and the account holder, subject to its procedures. We shouldn't assume the displayed recipient name proves who controlled the account.””
Dad placed the hospital photograph on the desk.
“What about this?””
Ms. Bennett studied it.
“We need to establish who took it, when it was taken, and whether it has been altered. As for the parentage question, you may have options for obtaining records or arranging voluntary genetic testing, depending on the circumstances. But first, we need reliable evidence.””
I stared at the photograph.
“Can you find Peter Reeves?””
“We can make inquiries through appropriate channels.””
Tyler shifted in his chair.
“I know where Daniel's office is.””
Ms. Bennett looked at him.
“How?””
“Mom took me there once. She said Daniel was helping her fix a problem with a family account.””
“Do you remember the address?””
Tyler nodded and wrote it down.
Ms. Bennett examined the note.
“I'll have my office verify the current business details. Nobody is going there alone, and nobody will threaten anyone. If Daniel has relevant records, we'll request them formally.””
Dad looked at Tyler.
“Why didn't you tell us about that visit before?””
Tyler's shoulders slumped.
“Because I was ashamed. I knew I'd been gambling, and Mom told me everything would disappear if I kept quiet. I thought she was protecting me.””
“You were protecting yourself,” Dad replied.
Tyler swallowed.
“Yeah. I was.””
For the first time, he didn't make excuses.
Ms. Bennett closed the folder.
“One more thing. If someone is using Rebecca's identity to open accounts, we need to establish whether this is identity theft, a fraudulent beneficiary change, or something else. Don't access any account that doesn't belong to you, even if you believe the funds should be yours.””
Dad thanked her, and we left with a list of documents to gather.
In the parking lot, Tyler stopped beside the car.
“Emma, can I talk to you?””
I folded my arms.
“You can talk. I can't promise I'll forgive you.””
He nodded.
“I deserve that.””
He reached into his jacket and pulled out a small envelope.
“I found this in my wallet. Mom gave it to me months ago. She said to keep it safe in case anything happened to her.””
Inside was a photocopy of a document headed Beneficiary Designation Amendment.
My name appeared near the top.
So did the name Peter Reeves.
At the bottom was a signature that looked like my mother's.
But beside it, someone had written a date that made my blood run cold.
The amendment had supposedly been signed two days after her death.
Tyler stared at the page.
“Emma, I think my mother knew someone had forged this.””
I looked at the document again.
Then I noticed the small reference number in the lower corner.
It matched the number on the mysterious card we had found in Laura's office.
May you like
And beneath it was a handwritten instruction:
Original retained by P. Reeves.
