Chapter 8 - Her Mother’s Signature
Emily called her mother from the conference room.
No answer.
Again.
No answer.
The affidavit claimed Emily had become “fixated on financial conspiracies” after leaving her job, that she had shown “erratic judgment,” and that Daniel had been “patient and protective.”
Emily read the lines twice.
Her mother knew Daniel froze her bank card.
Her mother had told Emily to keep the peace.
But this?
Noah leaned against the wall. “Could her signature be forged too?”
Emily looked at the bottom of the affidavit.
“I watched her make that E my whole life.”
Margaret said, “We verify before we accuse.”
Emily grabbed her coat.
“I’m verifying in person.”
Her mother, Susan Hayes, lived forty minutes outside the city in a small brick house overlooking a golf course she never played.
When Emily arrived, Daniel’s truck was already in the driveway.
Paul caught her arm before she reached the front door.
“Think.”
“I am thinking.”
“You’re furious.”
“Also true.”
They entered together.
Daniel stood in the living room beside Susan.
He looked almost relieved.
“There you are.”
Emily ignored him.
“Mom, did you sign that affidavit?”
Susan’s eyes filled immediately.
“Emily, please.”
“Yes or no?”
Daniel stepped forward. “She’s scared for you.”
“Daniel, if you speak again, I’m going to start charging you by the word.”
His jaw tightened.
Susan whispered, “I signed it.”
Emily felt something inside her go quiet.
“Why?”
“Daniel said the trust people were pushing you into something reckless.”
“You didn’t call me?”
“He showed me messages.”
“What messages?”
Daniel reached for his phone.
Emily held up a hand. “From her.”
Susan swallowed. “Messages where you said you wanted to ruin him even if it ruined everyone.”
“I never sent that.”
Daniel unlocked his phone and held it out.
There they were.
Texts from Emily’s number.
I’ll burn his company to the ground.
If Mom gets in the way, she goes too.
Emily stared at the screen.
The messages were fake.
But beneath them was something real.
A photo of Emily asleep in her own bed.
Taken from the doorway.
Time-stamped 2:03 a.m. the previous night.
May you like
Daniel smiled faintly.
“You really should change your passcode,” he said.
