Chapter 2: The Signature That Wasn’t Real
My father read the documents three times.
Not because he didn’t understand them.
Because he couldn’t believe them.
Marcus Reed had spent twenty years building his company, saving money, and protecting the one thing my mother and he bought together before she died.
The house.
Our house.
The place where every hallway held a memory.
The place where my mother’s handwriting was still on the inside of the kitchen cabinet.
The place Monica was now trying to hand over to Olivia.
“Where did you get these?”” Dad asked.
Nobody answered.
He looked at Monica.
“I asked where you got these.””
She swallowed.
“I don’t know what you think you found.””
He held up the papers.
“Don’t do that.””
“Do what?””
“Pretend you don’t understand.””
Her expression hardened.
“Marcus, you’re tired. You’re upset.””
“I’m reading a document with my name on it.””
“It could be a mistake.””
“A mistake?””
His laugh was empty.
“My signature is on page four.””
I stepped closer.
“But you said you never signed.””
“I didn’t.””
Dad looked at the page again.
Then he noticed something.
“The date.””
“What?”” I asked.
He pointed.
“The date on this document.””
I leaned closer.
It was from six months ago.
Six months ago, Dad had been recovering from surgery.
Six months ago, he could barely walk without help.
Six months ago, Monica had handled all his paperwork.
My blood ran cold.
“Mom…”
I stopped myself.
I almost called Monica “Mom” out of habit.
But the word felt wrong now.
Monica noticed.
Her face tightened.
“You’re making accusations without evidence.””
I looked at Olivia.
“Funny. That’s what you said when I accused her of deleting my scholarship email.””
Olivia rolled her eyes.
“Still obsessed with that?””
Dad turned sharply.
“Olivia.””
She froze.
Because he had never used that tone with her.
Not once.
“Did you delete Jasmine’s email?””
“No.””
“Did you access her laptop?””
“No.””
I stared at her.
The lie came too easily.
Dad noticed too.
He looked at me.
“You said you have recordings.””
I nodded.
“I do.””
“Show me.””
Monica stepped forward.
“Marcus, this is ridiculous.””
“No,” he said.
His voice was calm.
“That word is reserved for the moment someone tries to steal my house and calls it a misunderstanding.””
The room went silent.
I connected the USB to his laptop.
The first recording played.
Olivia’s voice filled the room.
“I don’t care if she worked hard for it.””
My father’s face changed.
The recording continued.
“She already has Dad’s attention. She doesn’t need another reason for him to be proud of her.””
Then my own voice.
“You deleted the interview email?””
A pause.
Then Olivia.
“Maybe.””
Dad closed his eyes.
Monica looked away.
The second recording was worse.
It was Olivia talking to Monica.
“I told you she was getting suspicious.””
Monica’s voice followed.
“She’s emotional. She’ll calm down.””
“She won’t leave.””
“She will if she thinks she has no choice.””
I looked at my father.
He looked like someone had physically hit him.
Because he wasn’t just hearing what happened to me.
He was hearing what happened inside his own home.
Then Olivia suddenly grabbed the laptop.
“Enough!””
Dad stopped her.
“Move.””
“Dad—”
“Move.””
She stepped back.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“I can’t believe you’re choosing her over me.””
My father stared at her.
“That’s what you think this is?””
“She’s always been your favorite.””
I almost laughed.
The irony was painful.
For years, I thought Olivia was his favorite.
Now Olivia thought I was.
Dad looked between us.
“You both need to understand something.””
Nobody spoke.
“I failed both of you.””
That surprised me.
He continued.
“I thought providing a house, food, and opportunities was enough.””
His voice cracked.
“But I wasn’t paying attention.””
Monica suddenly walked toward him.
“Marcus, please.””
He stepped away.
“Not now.””
The woman who always controlled every conversation looked powerless.
Then Dad picked up the legal papers again.
“There’s something missing.””
“What?”” Monica asked.
“A witness.””
She froze.
He looked at the final page.
“This transfer requires notarization.””
My stomach dropped.
“Meaning?””
“Meaning someone had to verify this signature.””
Dad looked at Monica.
“Who notarized it?””
Her silence answered before her words did.
“I don’t remember.””
Dad stared at her.
“You don’t remember who helped transfer my house?””
She looked angry now.
Not scared.
Angry.
“You’re acting like I committed some crime.””
“You tried to move ownership of my home without telling me.””
“I was protecting Olivia.””
“From what?””
Monica’s voice softened.
“She deserves security.””
I felt something cold settle in my chest.
There it was.
The truth.
Not hidden.
Not anymore.
Security.
A future.
A house.
Everything my mother left behind.
For Olivia.
Dad walked toward the staircase.
“I’m calling an attorney.””
Monica’s face changed.
“No.””
That single word made everyone look at her.
She immediately corrected herself.
“I mean, there’s no need to involve outsiders.””
“Why?””
“Because we’re family.””
Dad looked at her.
“Family doesn’t forge signatures.””
Nobody moved.
Then his phone rang.
He looked down.
Unknown number.
He answered.
“Hello?””
His face changed after only five seconds.
“What?””
He listened.
Then slowly looked at me.
“What did you say?””
My heart started pounding.
“What is it?””
Dad lowered the phone.
The color had drained from his face.
“The attorney’s office.””
He swallowed.
“They said someone already contacted them.””
“Who?”” I asked.
Dad stared at the papers.
Then the front door.
“They said the person claimed to be me.””
A horrible silence filled the room.
Because whoever created those documents wasn’t just trying to steal a house.
They were trying to become my father.
And then the attorney said one more thing.
May you like
The thing that made Marcus look directly at Monica.
“The person who called used my private account information.””
