Chapter 8: The Practice Sheets
My mother sat down as if her legs could no longer support her.
“Yes,” she repeated.
“I taught someone to write your name.””
I felt my stomach twist.
“Who?””
She covered her mouth.
Richard pulled out a chair.
“Linda, tell her.””
My mother looked at me.
“I didn't know what they were going to do with it.””
I laughed, but there was no humor in it.
“You taught someone to copy my signature, and you didn't know what they were going to do?””
“I thought it was for a family document.””
“What family document?””
She looked toward the staircase.
“Your father's business paperwork.””
I shook my head.
“Mom, I was twenty-three. I wasn't involved in the business.””
“I know.””
“Then why did you need my signature?””
She began crying again.
“I thought if the accounts were in your name, the company could continue operating without your father.””
Richard closed his eyes.
“That isn't what happened.””
My mother turned toward him.
“You said it would be temporary!””
Thomas wasn't there anymore, but his presence seemed to fill the room.
I stepped closer.
“Did Thomas ask you to do it?””
Linda nodded.
“He said your father was becoming difficult. He said Michael would destroy the company if he discovered what was happening.””
“And you believed him?””
“He told me the money would be returned.””
“How much money?””
She stared at the floor.
“Initially, two hundred thousand.””
I looked at Richard.
He nodded grimly.
“That's consistent with the first transactions.””
My mother continued.
“Then there were other transfers. Thomas said the company needed liquidity. He said everything would be corrected before anyone noticed.””
I gripped the edge of the table.
“And the four hundred and twelve thousand in my name?””
She didn't answer.
I repeated the question.
“Mom, did you help Thomas move more than four hundred thousand dollars using my identity?””
She finally nodded.
My knees weakened.
“Why?””
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
“Of losing everything.””
I stared at her.
“You already had the house. You had the rental income. Dad had left you enough to live comfortably.””
She looked up.
“You don't understand. I wanted to be independent.””
I felt something break inside me.
“So you used my name to steal money?””
“I didn't think of it that way!””
“What did you think of it as?””
She started sobbing.
“I thought I was protecting myself.””
I stepped away.
For years, I had protected her.
I had paid her bills.
I had answered every desperate phone call.
I had believed every explanation.
And she had used the same trust to put my future at risk.
Richard opened the blue box again.
“There may be more evidence here.””
He lifted the notebook and examined the final pages.
“Michael kept records of the transfers, but he also documented the handwriting samples.””
He found a folded sheet tucked inside the back cover.
It contained several handwritten versions of my name.
Some were neat.
Others were awkward.
Beneath them were dates.
I recognized the handwriting immediately.
It was my mother's.
My fingers went numb.
“Where did you get these?””
Richard pointed to a small note at the bottom.
“Michael must have found them.””
I stared at the page.
My mother had written my name dozens of times.
Then, beside the practice signatures, Dad had written:
Linda says she was teaching Emily to improve her handwriting. Emily is twenty-three. There is no reasonable explanation for this.
I looked up.
“You knew Dad had found these?””
Linda nodded.
“He confronted me.””
“What did he say?””
She pressed her palms against her eyes.
“He said he was going to report everything.””
“And what did you do?””
“I begged him not to.””
I waited.
She lowered her hands.
“He said he couldn't protect me from the consequences anymore.””
The room became unbearably quiet.
Richard picked up another document.
“This is important.””
He turned it toward me.
It was a copy of a police report filed shortly after my father's death.
I scanned the page.
The original investigation had focused on the circumstances surrounding the heart attack.
But there was an additional note.
A detective had requested access to the company's financial records.
The request had been withdrawn three days later.
I frowned.
“Why was it withdrawn?””
Richard looked at Linda.
“Because the family told the investigators there was no financial dispute.””
I stared at my mother.
“You told the police there was no financial dispute?””
She nodded.
“Your father was dead. I didn't want people digging through our private affairs.””
“Or discovering what you had done?””
She didn't answer.
I picked up the police report.
There was a name at the bottom.
Detective Samuel Brooks.
I took a photograph of it.
“I want to speak to him.””
Richard nodded.
“I can help you find him.””
My mother stood.
“No.””
I turned.
“What?””
“You cannot bring the police into this.””
“Why?””
“Because they'll take everything.””
I stared at her.
“Everything you've been hiding?””
She grabbed my hands.
“Emily, please. Think about Sienna.””
The mention of my daughter made me pull away.
“Don't use her.””
“I'm trying to protect my granddaughter.””
“You told her she couldn't sit at your table.””
My mother's face crumpled.
“I was upset.””
“You made her feel unwanted in front of twenty people.””
“I said I was sorry!””
“No, you didn't.””
She looked down.
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then my phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?””
A woman introduced herself as Sarah, a fraud investigator from my bank.
“Ms. Morgan, we're contacting you regarding several historical accounts associated with your identity.””
My heart started racing.
“What accounts?””
“We've received a request for additional verification concerning a business loan opened eleven years ago.””
I glanced at Richard.
“What business loan?””
Sarah continued.
“The original balance was approximately four hundred and twelve thousand dollars. The account has recently been transferred to a collections agency.””
I felt cold all over.
“But I never opened a business loan.””
“That's what we need to establish.””
“Who opened it?””
There was a pause.
“The records list you as the primary borrower and Linda Morgan as an authorized representative.””
I looked at my mother.
She had gone completely still.
“Did you say Linda Morgan?””
“Yes.””
My voice shook.
“Was there a second borrower?””
Sarah checked.
“Yes. Thomas Bell.””
I closed my eyes.
The same man.
The same money.
The same forged signatures.
“Is the loan still active?””
“Unfortunately, yes. The remaining balance, including accumulated charges, is now approximately six hundred and eighty thousand dollars.””
I nearly dropped the phone.
“Six hundred and eighty thousand?””
“Yes, ma'am.””
I looked at Richard.
He was staring at the paperwork.
Sarah continued.
“We also have a document that appears to contain your electronic authorization. We need you to verify whether it is genuine.””
“Send it to me.””
“We'll arrange that.””
After the call ended, I stood silently.
My mother began crying.
Richard looked as though he'd aged ten years in a few minutes.
I turned toward Linda.
“You didn't just use my name to move money.””
She shook her head.
“Emily—”
“You borrowed nearly half a million dollars in my name?””
“I was going to fix it.””
“With what?””
She didn't answer.
I picked up the documents.
“I'm going to the police.””
My mother rushed toward me.
“If you do that, they'll arrest me!””
I looked at her.
“You should have thought about that before you signed my name.””
She grabbed my sleeve.
“I'm your mother!””
I pulled away.
“And I'm someone's daughter. I was supposed to be protected too.””
I walked toward the front door.
Richard followed me.
“Emily, wait.””
I turned.
He lowered his voice.
“There is something else you need to understand about that loan.””
“What?””
“The money wasn't used to buy properties or cover company expenses.””
“Where did it go?””
He hesitated.
“Thomas transferred most of it into an account in Linda's name.””
I stared at him.
“Why would she do that?””
Richard looked toward the kitchen.
“Because the account wasn't really hers.””
He handed me a copy of the account-opening document.
The beneficiary listed beneath my mother's name was a company I had never heard of.
But the address was familiar.
It was the address of a house in another state.
A house registered to Thomas Bell's wife.
I looked at Richard.
“Thomas stole the money?””
Richard nodded.
“Most of it.””
My mother suddenly spoke from behind us.
“He promised he'd marry me.””
I turned slowly.
“What?””
Linda's face crumpled.
“He said once the money was transferred, he'd leave his wife. He said we'd start over.””
I stared at her.
The expensive parties.
The secret payments.
The stranger in the window.
My mother hadn't just been hiding financial fraud.
She had been financing an affair.
With money stolen using her own daughter's identity.
And then she said something that made the entire room go silent.
“Thomas told me your father knew about us.””
I looked at her.
“Dad knew?””
May you like
She nodded.
“And the night he died, he told me he was going to tell you everything.””
