Chapter 7: The Notary at Our Dinner Table
I read the name at the bottom of the guarantee three times before I could make sense of it.
Patricia Greene.
Our next-door neighbor.
She had brought casseroles when Dad's mother died, attended every neighborhood cookout, and once given me fifty dollars for helping her carry groceries inside during a snowstorm. She had known me since I was nine.
And three weeks earlier, she had apparently certified a document claiming I'd agreed to guarantee a debt I knew nothing about.
“Dad,” I whispered, “Mrs. Greene notarized this?””
He examined the stamp.
“That's what it says.””
“But she knows I'm seventeen.””
“I know.””
“And I wasn't even home that day. I was working.””
Dad folded the document carefully and placed it back in the envelope.
“Then we'll find out how this happened.””
Behind us, Karen let out a shaky breath.
“Patricia was only helping me.””
Dad turned around.
“Helping you do what?””
“She witnessed the signatures.””
“What signatures?””
Karen looked toward the kitchen.
“I need to sit down.””
“You've been sitting down for six weeks while my daughter worked herself exhausted to save fourteen hundred dollars. Now I want answers.””
“Daniel, please don't shout.””
“Then stop making me ask the same question!””
Madison stood beside the staircase, clutching her laptop against her chest. She looked as though she wanted to disappear into the wall.
I couldn't blame her. I wanted to disappear, too.
Instead, I reached for the document.
“Dad, can I see the signature?””
He handed it to me.
My name was written in blue ink, with the same looping H and crooked final r I used when signing school forms.
It looked like mine.
That was the frightening part.
Someone had taken enough time to copy my handwriting convincingly. The signature even included the little upward stroke I always added at the end.
But I hadn't signed it.
“I never saw this,” I said.
Dad nodded.
“That's what we're going to establish.””
He called the police non-emergency number and explained that we had discovered suspected identity theft, a potentially forged financial guarantee, and a loan taken out using my information. The dispatcher instructed us to preserve the documents and said an officer would contact us about making a report.
While Dad was on the phone, Karen approached me.
“Hannah, you have to understand something.””
I stepped away.
“Don't.””
“I never intended for you to be responsible for anything.””
“Then why is my name on a document promising to pay someone else's debt?””
“Because Victor said the paperwork was only temporary.””
“Did you tell him I was seventeen?””
Her eyes filled.
“Yes.””
“And he still agreed to use my name?””
“He said the lender wouldn't approve the application otherwise.””
The room seemed to shrink around me.
“So you both knew.””
Karen reached for my hand.
I pulled it away.
“You looked me in the face and told me I was selfish for asking for my own money.””
“I was scared.””
“I was scared, too!””
My voice cracked.
“I thought I'd done something wrong when my card was declined. I thought maybe I'd forgotten a payment. I stood in a grocery store feeling stupid because I couldn't buy milk, and you were sitting here laughing at me.””
Karen lowered her head.
For once, she didn't defend herself.
Dad ended his call and walked toward the front door.
“I'm going to speak with Patricia.””
“I'll come with you,” I said.
“No, sweetheart. You stay here with Madison. I'll be back shortly.””
I wanted to argue, but I could see from his expression that he was trying to keep me away from another confrontation.
Before he left, he turned to Karen.
“You are not leaving this house with those documents, and you are not contacting Victor.””
Karen looked up sharply.
“You can't order me around.””
“No,” Dad replied.
“But I can protect my daughter.””
The door closed behind him.
For several minutes, Madison and I stood in silence.
Finally, she placed the laptop on the coffee table.
“I don't want it anymore.””
I looked at her.
“It's not about whether you want it.””
“I know.””
She sat down and covered her face.
“Mom told me you had plenty of money because Dad was saving for your car. She said you wouldn't even notice the laptop purchase.””
“I worked all summer.””
“I know.””
“No, Madison. You saw me come home with swollen hands and grease on my clothes. You saw me eating leftovers while you ordered takeout with Mom. You knew I was saving.””
She began to cry harder.
“I thought if I questioned her, she'd get angry.””
I looked away because I didn't know what to do with that confession.
Madison had been protected from the consequences of her mother's choices, but she had also learned to remain silent whenever those choices hurt someone else.
I couldn't fix that for her.
About twenty minutes later, Dad returned.
His expression told me everything before he spoke.
“Patricia says she notarized the guarantee,” he said.
My stomach dropped.
“She admitted it?””
“She says Karen brought the documents to her and claimed you and I had already signed them. Patricia says she didn't watch either of us sign.””
“Then why did she notarize it?””
Dad shook his head.
“She says Karen told her it was an emergency and begged her to help.””
I stared at him.
“She knew I wasn't there.””
“Apparently.””
“Did she admit she knew I was seventeen?””
Dad hesitated.
“She says she didn't think about your age.””
I let out a disbelieving laugh.
“How convenient.””
Dad sat beside me.
“There's more. Patricia gave me the name of the person who prepared the paperwork.””
“Who?””
He looked down at the envelope.
“An attorney named Robert Vance. Apparently, Victor introduced him to Karen.””
Karen appeared in the kitchen doorway.
“I can explain that.””
Dad turned toward her.
“Then explain.””
She pressed her lips together.
“Robert told me the guarantee was a formality. He said it would help Victor release the investment funds. He said the documents wouldn't be enforced if the deal went through.””
“And you believed him?””
“I wanted to believe him.””
Dad rubbed his face.
“Did you pay him?””
Karen hesitated.
Then she whispered, “Yes.””
“How much?””
“Three thousand dollars.””
Dad stood again.
“Where did that money come from?””
Karen didn't answer.
She didn't have to.
I could already guess.
My stomach turned as I realized that every time we'd uncovered another secret, it had led to another person, another payment, another lie.
Then Dad's phone rang.
The officer handling our report wanted to speak with us and asked whether we could provide the original guarantee.
Dad looked at the envelope in his hands.
“We can,” he said.
He ended the call, then looked at Karen.
“The police are coming here.””
Her face went white.
And as she sank into the nearest chair, she whispered something that made Dad stop moving.
“Please don't let them see the second document.””
“What second document?”” I asked.
Karen looked at me.
For the first time, she seemed less afraid of being caught than of whatever would happen when we discovered what she had signed next.
“It's the document that transfers the house,” she said.
Dad stared at her.
“Transfers it to whom?””
May you like
Karen began to cry.
“To Victor.””
