Chapter 3: Fifteen Minutes to the Truth
My father caught Denise's wrist before she could reach my phone.
"Enough," David said.
She jerked her hand away.
"You're making a terrible mistake!""
"Then explain what I'm missing.""
"I don't have to explain every private matter to you in front of the children.""
"I'm standing right here," I said.
"And you just tried to grab my phone.""
Denise turned on me.
"Because you have no idea what you're doing!""
"Then help me understand.""
She opened her mouth, but nothing came out.
The progress bar continued moving across my screen.
Twenty-three percent.
Thirty-one.
Forty.
I gripped the phone with both hands.
The living room seemed unnaturally quiet, despite the refrigerator humming in the kitchen and a car passing outside. Daylight poured through the front windows, illuminating the torn receipt scattered across the wooden table.
Every scrap seemed to accuse somebody.
David pulled a chair away from the table and sat down.
"Nobody is leaving until we know what that file is.""
Alyssa scoffed.
"You're grounding me over a computer?""
"No," he said.
"I'm asking you why your name is attached to deleted files.""
"I already told you. I didn't delete anything.""
"Then show me your account.""
She hugged a decorative pillow against her stomach.
"I don't remember my password.""
"You were logged in on Maya's laptop.""
"That doesn't mean I remember it!""
David studied her for a moment.
"Your mother said you needed the laptop for school. What assignment were you working on?""
Alyssa blinked.
"My history project.""
"What was the topic?""
She hesitated.
"American history.""
"Which part?""
"Why are you doing this to me?""
"Because you can't answer a simple question about the schoolwork you supposedly needed the laptop for.""
Alyssa threw the pillow onto the couch.
"Fine! I was looking for something!""
The words escaped too quickly.
I stepped closer.
"Looking for what?""
She looked at Denise.
Her mother gave the slightest shake of her head.
David saw it.
"Don't look at her," he said.
"Look at me.""
Alyssa's eyes filled with angry tears.
"You're always defending Maya!""
"That isn't an answer.""
"She gets everything!""
I stared at her.
"Everything? I bought my own laptop. I pay for my own supplies. I work weekends while you spend money on clothes.""
"Because Mom takes care of me!""
"Exactly," I said.
"You get things handed to you, and somehow you still think you deserve mine.""
Denise struck the table with her palm.
"Watch your mouth!""
David stood.
"Don't you dare threaten her for asking a question.""
"I'm her stepmother!""
"And I'm her father.""
For a moment, neither moved.
Denise had spent years using that title as a shield. Whenever she crossed a line, she reminded me that she was the adult in charge. Whenever Alyssa took something of mine, Denise called it sharing. Whenever I protested, I was ungrateful.
But my father had never seen the whole pattern.
He worked late. He trusted Denise to manage the house. And I had learned to swallow my complaints because I didn't want to become another problem he had to solve after a twelve-hour shift.
Today, swallowing my words would cost me everything.
The progress bar reached sixty-eight percent.
I turned back to the phone.
"Come on," I whispered.
Denise paced behind the couch.
"This is absurd. David, you have a document to sign tomorrow. You should be preparing for that instead of encouraging this behavior.""
My father turned toward her.
"What document?""
She stopped.
I looked up.
"Tomorrow?""
Denise pressed her lips together.
"I meant the paperwork for the insurance renewal.""
"What insurance renewal?"" David asked.
"The household policy.""
"You told me that was already handled.""
"It needs one final signature.""
He studied her face.
"Why didn't you mention that earlier?""
"Because it wasn't important.""
I looked at the phone again.
The restored document's title remained at the top of the screen.
*DAD — PLEASE READ BEFORE YOU SIGN ANYTHING.*
My father noticed it, too.
"Denise," he said slowly, "is that document connected to the paperwork you want me to sign?""
She laughed, but the sound was brittle.
"How could it be? Maya probably wrote that herself. She has a habit of making everything sound dramatic.""
I felt my face burn.
"I've never seen that file before today.""
"How convenient.""
David moved closer to the table.
"Then we can open it and settle this.""
Denise shook her head.
"You don't understand how cloud storage works. Files get mixed up. Names get changed. You could be looking at something completely unrelated.""
"That's why we're going to read it.""
The progress bar reached ninety-two percent.
Alyssa suddenly stood.
"Mom, can we please just tell him?""
The room went still.
Denise turned toward her so sharply that Alyssa recoiled.
"Tell him what?""
Alyssa's eyes darted to me.
"Nothing.""
I stared at her.
"You just said—"
"I said nothing!""
David's voice cut through the room.
"Alyssa, sit down.""
This time, she obeyed.
The restoration reached one hundred percent.
A notification appeared.
*FILE RESTORED SUCCESSFULLY.*
I tapped the document.
A preview window opened, but the contents took a moment to load.
At the top was my father's full name.
Beneath it sat a date from three weeks earlier.
Then came a sentence that made my fingers go numb.
*This agreement becomes effective upon the homeowner's signature.*
David leaned over my shoulder.
"What agreement?""
I scrolled.
The preview displayed a page of legal language, a property address, and a section identifying the people involved.
I recognized our address immediately.
So did my father.
He pulled out the chair and sat down again, his face suddenly drained of color.
"Why is our house listed here?""
Denise crossed the room.
"David, please. Don't read that.""
He looked up at her.
"Why?""
"Because it's incomplete.""
"Then you can explain the missing information after I read it.""
He took my phone and enlarged the document.
I watched his eyes move from one line to the next.
His jaw tightened.
Then he scrolled to the final page.
A signature line appeared.
Beside it was a date scheduled for the following morning.
David looked toward Denise.
"You told me I was signing insurance paperwork.""
She began to cry.
Not the quiet, embarrassed tears I'd seen from her after arguments.
These were immediate and desperate.
"David, I can explain.""
"Then explain.""
"I was trying to protect the family.""
"From what?""
She pressed both hands against her chest.
"You don't know what it's been like trying to keep everything together while you work all those hours.""
He didn't look away.
"That doesn't answer my question.""
Alyssa sat frozen on the couch, her fingers digging into the cushion.
I turned the phone back toward myself and scrolled to the attachment list.
There were three files.
One was the agreement.
Another was a scanned letter.
The third was a photograph of a document bearing my father's signature.
I frowned.
"Dad, why is your signature here?""
He leaned toward the screen.
The signature looked like his. The same sweeping first letter. The same sharp line at the end.
But he stared at it as though he'd never seen it before.
"I didn't sign that.""
Denise stopped crying.
The silence that followed was so complete that I could hear the faint click of the ceiling fan rotating above us.
David took the phone from me.
"Where did this come from?""
"I don't know," Denise whispered.
He looked at the screen again.
Then at her.
"Someone used my signature on a document involving my house.""
"I didn't say that.""
"You just said you didn't know where it came from.""
"I meant I don't know why Maya has it!""
I opened the activity history again.
The document had been uploaded from the laptop at 2:11 p.m.—eight minutes before the school folder was deleted.
The user was Alyssa.
I turned toward my stepsister.
"You didn't just open my computer to do homework, did you?""
Alyssa's eyes filled with tears.
She looked at her mother.
Denise shook her head, silently warning her.
But my father had already seen the upload record.
"Alyssa," he said, his voice trembling with restrained anger, "did you put this document on Maya's laptop?""
She stared at the floor.
"Answer me.""
Alyssa finally looked up.
"I didn't know what it was at first.""
Denise closed her eyes.
David leaned forward.
"At first?""
Alyssa wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.
"Mom told me to delete the school folder because she thought Maya might find the document.""
My heart pounded.
"Why was the document on my laptop in the first place?""
Alyssa opened her mouth.
Then she looked at Denise again.
And this time, Denise didn't shake her head.
She simply whispered, "Don't.""
My father stood so abruptly that the chair scraped backward across the floor.
"Tell me the truth, Alyssa. Right now.""
Alyssa's lips trembled.
Then she pointed at the restored document.
"Because Mom said you were going to sign away the house tomorrow—and she needed to make sure you never saw what was attached to it.""
David stared at her.
Denise reached for the phone one last time.
But Alyssa spoke again, her voice barely audible.
"And that's not even the worst part, Dad. The other document shows who was supposed to get the money.""
She turned the phone toward him.
At the bottom of the scanned page was a name.
Not Denise's.
Not Alyssa's.
*Maya Carter.*
May you like
My father went completely still.
And Denise whispered, "Please don't open the next file.""
