Chapter 4: My Dead Brother's Signature
“My brother has been dead for eleven months.””
I said it twice before Renee answered.
“I know, Sophia.””
“Then explain how a dead man authorized Daniel to take control of my company.””
Renee was silent for a moment.
“I don't think Andrew authorized anything.””
I looked at the document on my phone.
The signature looked familiar. The same sharp A. The same long underline beneath Bennett.
But something was wrong.
Andrew had always signed his name with a slight upward curve at the end. This signature was perfectly straight.
It was a small detail.
But I had watched my brother sign Christmas cards, birthday checks, and business documents for thirty-four years.
I knew his handwriting better than anyone.
“Someone forged it,” I whispered.
“That's our working theory,” Renee replied.
“But we need to establish who created the document and how it entered the company's legal system.””
“Can you freeze the transfer?””
“We've requested an emergency hold. The bank has flagged the authorization, but the transfer is scheduled for Monday morning. We need to move quickly.””
I glanced at the clock.
11:58 p.m.
“Then we don't wait until Monday.””
“I'm contacting the company's security director now. I want you at headquarters at seven tomorrow morning.””
“Make it six.””
“Sophia, you haven't slept.””
“I'll sleep when I know who is trying to steal my father's company.””
I ended the call.
For several minutes, I stood in the kitchen without moving.
Andrew.
My older brother had been the only person in my family who never treated me like an inheritance with legs.
When our father died, Andrew could have fought me for control of Bennett Capital. He was older, more experienced, and already working in the company.
Instead, he stood beside me at the funeral and said, “Dad trusted you. I'll make sure nobody makes you feel like you don't belong here.””
Eleven months ago, Andrew died in a car accident outside Boston.
At least, that was what I had been told.
I walked upstairs and opened the drawer in my bedside table.
Inside was an old photograph.
Andrew and me at our father's estate, standing beside the enormous oak tree where we used to hide from our parents during family parties.
He had his arm around my shoulders.
I was laughing.
On the back, he had written:
No matter what happens, you're never alone.
My eyes burned.
I put the photograph down.
Then I noticed something.
A small envelope was tucked behind the frame.
I hadn't seen it in months.
It was addressed in Andrew's handwriting.
*Sophia — Open when you finally stop trusting everyone.*
My heart began pounding.
I tore it open.
Inside was a single sheet of paper.
Little sister,
If you're reading this, something has gone terribly wrong.
I discovered irregular financial activity shortly before my accident. I believe someone close to us has been using the family trust to move money without authorization.
I tried to tell you, but I couldn't be certain who was involved.
Whatever happens, do not sign anything Daniel puts in front of you.
And don't trust the person who tells you I died.
I read the final sentence again.
Then again.
My phone slipped from my fingers and landed on the carpet.
Don't trust the person who tells you I died.
I grabbed the letter and ran downstairs.
I called Renee.
She answered immediately.
“Sophia?””
“I found something.””
I read the letter aloud.
By the time I finished, Renee wasn't speaking.
“Renee?””
“Where did you find it?””
“Inside an old photograph frame.””
“Do you recognize the handwriting?””
“Every word.””
“Then bring it with you tomorrow. Don't show it to anyone else.””
I swallowed.
“Renee, what if Andrew didn't die?””
“Let's not jump to conclusions.””
“What if the accident wasn't an accident?””
She took a slow breath.
“I'm going to need to speak with the investigators who handled his case.””
I looked at the photograph.
My brother's smiling face stared back at me.
“There's something else,” I said.
“What?””
“Daniel knew Andrew's signature.””
“Why?””
“Because Andrew introduced him to the company. He helped Daniel get his first consulting contract.””
Renee was quiet.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Sophia, the person who submitted the power of attorney also used Andrew's old corporate security credentials.””
I gripped the phone.
“Those credentials were deactivated after his death.””
“Exactly.””
“So someone reactivated them.””
“Yes.””
I looked toward the dark hallway.
“Who has access to those records?””
“Three people. You, me, and the company's chief financial officer.””
I knew the CFO.
Martin Hale.
He had worked for my father for twenty-two years. He had attended Andrew's funeral. He had hugged me afterward and promised to protect the business.
I remembered his words.
Your father would be proud of you, Sophia.
“Renee?””
“Yes?””
“Call Martin.””
“Not yet.””
“Why?””
“Because if he's involved, warning him would give him time to destroy evidence.””
I looked down at Andrew's letter.
For the first time since Daniel's betrayal, I felt something stronger than heartbreak.
Fear.
Someone had been planning this long before the birthday party.
And I might have been sleeping beside one of them.
At 1:13 a.m., my phone rang.
An unknown number.
I answered cautiously.
A man's voice came through.
“Sophia?””
I stopped breathing.
I knew that voice.
I had heard it every Christmas.
Every birthday.
Every family gathering.
It was a voice I had cried over at a funeral.
“Andrew?””
A pause.
Then the man whispered:
May you like
“Don't trust Renee.””
And the call ended.
