Chapter 3 - Stop the Money
"Stop it," I said.
"I am placing a fraud hold now," Melissa replied. "But I need you to understand something. The application contains your identifying information, an uploaded ID, an electronic signature, and an account for deposit."
"Whose account?"
"I can't disclose the full account number over the phone."
"Is it mine?"
She checked.
"No."
I closed my eyes.
"Jason's?"
"The receiving account is under the name Jason Mercer."
There it was.
Clean. Simple. Ugly.
My brother had used my identity to borrow money for himself.
Melissa told me to file an identity theft report, freeze my credit, and send a written affidavit. I wrote everything down on the back of Layla's discharge-planning brochure because it was the only paper I could find.
When I returned to the room, Andrea was adjusting the IV pump.
"Bad?" she asked.
"Worse than bad. Stupid."
"Those are often more exhausting."
My phone lit again.
Mom.
Then Jason.
Then Mom again.
I answered Jason.
"What did you do?"
He didn't pretend not to understand.
"Claire, listen."
"No. You listen. North River flagged the application."
His breathing changed.
"You called them?"
"Of course I called them."
"Why would you do that?"
I stared at the wall.
"Because I didn't apply for a forty-eight-thousand-dollar loan, Jason."
"It was going to be paid back."
"By who?"
"Me."
"With what money?"
He snapped, "I just got married. I can't start my marriage looking broke."
I actually pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at it.
"Your niece is in intensive care."
"I know that."
"Do you? Because you haven't called once."
"I didn't want to bother you."
"But forty-eight thousand dollars was fine?"
He lowered his voice. "Mom said you'd never agree if we asked first."
That sentence hurt more than I expected.
Not because it shocked me.
Because it confirmed this had been discussed.
Planned.
Probably around a kitchen table while I sat beside my daughter's hospital bed.
"Who signed my name?" I asked.
Jason didn't answer.
"Who signed it?"
"Claire—"
"Was it you?"
"I didn't think you'd blow it up like this."
I felt my pulse in my throat.
"That wasn't my question."
His voice became cold.
"If you report this, Dad could lose his job."
I went still.
"What does Dad's job have to do with your loan?"
May you like
Jason said nothing.
Then the call ended.
