Chapter 4 - The Signature
I knew my own signature.
The one on the page looked close enough to fool a stranger.
Not me.
My D curved tighter. My last name ended with an upward stroke. This one was flat.
“Where did you get that?” I asked.
Dad handed it to me.
Mom sat in the first row now, helped there by one of my cousins. She looked exhausted.
Lauren’s voice came from behind me. “Daniel, it’s a draft.”
“With my signature?”
“A sample.”
“Why does a sample have a notary block?”
She said nothing.
I read the first page. The document converted nearly everything I owned before marriage into jointly controlled marital property after twelve months. It also gave Lauren broad authority if I became medically incapacitated.
My company shares were listed.
My townhouse was listed.
My interest in Hale Development was listed.
So was my parents’ home.
“That house isn’t mine,” I said.
Dad nodded. “Not yet.”
I looked up.
His face was hard. “Your grandfather’s trust transfers a controlling interest in the property to you when I turn sixty-two. That happens in four months.”
Lauren knew that.
I had told her once, casually, over dinner.
She had asked three questions afterward. I had thought she was interested in my family.
Now I remembered every question.
Vivian pushed through the guests. “This is private legal material. Turn that screen off.”
Dad said, “Gladly, once your daughter explains why the notary stamp belongs to a man who lost his commission last year.”
Lauren’s head snapped toward him.
That reaction told me more than her words had.
I stepped closer. “Who prepared this?”
“Nobody.”
“Lauren.”
“Your father is manipulating you.”
Dad took his phone out. “Then maybe the attorney who emailed it can explain.”
He tapped the screen.
A man’s voice came through the speaker.
“Mr. Hale? I found the original file.”
Dad asked, “And?”
The attorney paused.
My aunt Susan moved Mom away from the screen, but Mom refused to leave the lawn. She wanted to hear every word.
"Eleanor, you don’t need this," Aunt Susan said.
Mom’s answer was quiet. "Yes, I do. I need to know whether I imagined all of it."
That sentence cut through me.
How many times had Lauren dismissed Mom’s concerns as confusion? How many times had I repeated the same explanation because it was easier than considering that the woman I planned to marry might be lying?
I remembered one dinner when Mom asked why Lauren had moved a folder from Dad’s study. Lauren laughed and kissed my cheek. "Your mom thinks I’m stealing state secrets." Everyone had laughed. Even me.
May you like
Now I saw my mother’s face from that night in my memory. She had not been amused. She had been trying to warn me without humiliating anyone.
“It was created from Lauren Pierce’s personal account.”
