Chapter 8 - MY MOTHER’S SIGNATURE
My mother was waiting inside my father’s house when Agent Grant and I arrived.
She sat in the formal living room beneath a portrait of our family.
In the painting, Ethan and I were children.
My father stood behind us with one hand on each of our shoulders.
My mother sat beside him wearing pearls and a perfect smile.
The portrait had always made us look united.
Now it looked like evidence.
“Where is Richard?” Agent Grant asked.
My mother looked toward me.
“I do not know.”
“That is not an answer.”
“He left after the ceremony.”
“Did he contact Ethan?”
“I do not know.”
Agent Grant placed a copy of the oldest transfer form on the table.
“Do you recognize this?”
My mother did not touch it.
“No.”
I leaned forward.
“Ethan told me to ask who signed it.”
Her eyes moved toward the bottom of the document.
The authorization carried my grandfather’s name.
But beside it was the signature of the foundation’s financial secretary.
Claire Bennett.
My mother had been twenty-nine when the first scholarship money disappeared.
“You signed it,” I said.
She stared at the paper.
“Your grandfather told me it was temporary.”
“Eleven years is not temporary.”
“The company was failing.”
“So you stole from students.”
“We borrowed from the foundation.”
“You never returned it.”
“We intended to.”
“Did you also create the false medical records?”
Her expression tightened.
Agent Grant placed her phone on the table.
“This conversation is being recorded.”
My mother immediately stood.
“I want an attorney.”
“You are free to contact one.”
I stood too.
“Before you do, answer one question.”
She looked at me.
“When Dad hit me today, did you know he was going to do it?”
Her face softened.
“Emily.”
“Did you know?”
“No.”
“But you knew he planned to accuse me.”
She looked away.
That was enough.
“I tried to convince him to handle it privately,” she said.
“By forcing me to sign away my work.”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“From whom?”
“From your father.”
The answer silenced me.
My mother lowered herself back onto the sofa.
“You think Richard became this person recently.”
“He has always been this person.”
She nodded.
“I learned that too late.”
“Then why did you help him?”
“Because every time I tried to leave, he showed me what would happen to you and Ethan.”
“What did he show you?”
“Financial records with my signature.”
My mother laughed bitterly.
“He made sure I signed the first transfer.”
“You still signed it.”
“I know.”
For the first time, she did not defend herself.
She reached beneath the sofa cushion and removed a small brass key.
“Your grandfather kept a private ledger.”
“Where?”
“At the lake house.”
My father’s family owned an old property two hours north of the city.
We had not visited since my grandfather died.
“The ledger lists every transfer,” she continued.
“Richard moved it after the funeral.”
“Why did Ethan say he had it?”
“Because Ethan found the safe.”
Agent Grant took the key.
“What else is inside?”
My mother looked at me.
“Proof that Lighthouse was never the first thing Richard stole from you.”
I felt cold despite the summer heat.
“What else did he take?”
“Your inheritance.”
Before she could explain, headlights swept across the front windows.
A car stopped outside.
My mother’s face filled with terror.
“That is Richard.”
The front door opened.
But the man who entered was not my father.
May you like
It was Dr. Victor Lane.
And he was holding my missing laptop.
