Chapter 8: The Signature That Wasn't Mine
"Yours.""
Claire's voice echoed through the phone.
For a moment, I couldn't understand the word.
Not because it was complicated.
Because my mind refused to accept it.
"My signature?""
I looked at the documents sitting on the table.
The ones that had started this nightmare.
The ones that had dragged fifteen years of secrets into the light.
Claire's breathing was heavy on the other end.
"Yes.""
"No.""
My voice was barely a whisper.
"That isn't possible.""
"I know what you're thinking.""
"No, you don't.""
My fingers tightened around the phone.
"You don't know anything about me.""
A pause.
Then Claire answered quietly:
"I know because I was the one who processed the paperwork.""
The room went silent.
Even Nathan stopped moving.
I looked at him.
He looked just as shocked as I felt.
"You're saying you saw my signature?""
"Yes.""
"And?""
"It looked real.""
My stomach turned.
"Because it was copied?""
"No.""
The answer came too quickly.
Too firmly.
"It wasn't copied.""
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
"What are you saying?""
Claire lowered her voice.
"I'm saying the signature wasn't forged.""
I stared at the phone.
"Then how did it get there?""
The silence before her answer was the worst part.
Because I knew whatever came next would change everything.
"Emily...""
"Tell me.""
"Someone signed it while pretending to be you.""
My breathing stopped.
"What does that mean?""
"It means someone had access to your documents. Your identification. Your personal information.""
I looked at Nathan.
Then at the papers.
My life.
My name.
My identity.
Used by someone else.
"When?""
Claire answered:
"Three years before your father died.""
I froze.
Three years.
Before he died.
Before everything fell apart.
Before I knew there was anything wrong.
"Why didn't you tell my father?""
"I tried.""
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
Claire's voice cracked.
"Because I was afraid.""
"Of who?""
The line went quiet.
Then:
"Of the person who asked me to do it.""
My chest tightened.
"Who?""
Before Claire could answer, the call ended.
I pulled the phone away.
No signal.
Or maybe she hung up.
Either way, she was gone.
Nathan stepped closer.
"Emily.""
I turned toward him.
"Don't.""
He stopped.
"You knew about the signature.""
His face changed.
"What?""
"You knew someone used my name.""
"No.""
"Then why aren't you surprised?""
He looked at the documents.
"I thought...""
"What?""
He looked lost.
"I thought my father-in-law had signed something himself.""
I stared.
"My father?""
"No.""
Nathan shook his head.
"I mean I thought someone had used your information after your father died.""
The pieces weren't fitting.
Too many missing parts.
Too many people holding pieces of my life.
I grabbed the documents.
"I need to see the original.""
Nathan looked at me.
"The original?""
"The actual paperwork.""
He hesitated.
"Emily...""
"Where is it?""
His silence returned.
And this time, I was done accepting silence.
"Where?""
Nathan looked away.
"In my office.""
My eyes narrowed.
"Your office?""
"At home.""
I laughed quietly.
"You kept evidence in our house?""
"I didn't know what to do with it.""
"No.""
I shook my head.
"You knew exactly what to do with it.""
He looked hurt.
But I didn't care.
Not right now.
I had spent years protecting his feelings.
Nobody protected mine.
The SUV outside suddenly honked.
Once.
A warning.
Nathan looked toward the window.
"They're getting impatient.""
I looked outside.
The vehicle remained there.
Still.
Waiting.
"Who is in that car?""
Nathan didn't answer.
"Who?""
Finally, he whispered:
"I think it's Vanessa.""
My eyebrows pulled together.
"You think?""
"I haven't seen her face.""
"Then how do you know?""
"Because Vanessa always sends someone when she doesn't want to be involved herself.""
I stared at him.
"You make her sound like a criminal.""
Nathan looked away.
"Maybe I should have admitted that years ago.""
That sentence surprised me.
Because it was the first time Nathan sounded like he wasn't trying to save anyone.
Not his mother.
Not his sister.
Not himself.
Just telling the truth.
"Come with me.""
I looked at him.
The words surprised both of us.
"I need those documents.""
Nathan nodded.
"Okay.""
We left through the back door.
Not together.
Not like a married couple.
Like two people temporarily walking in the same direction because they needed the same answers.
The house was dark when we returned.
The anniversary decorations were still there.
The flowers.
The candles.
The half-eaten cake.
A perfect picture of a celebration that never happened.
I walked through the dining room.
The table where everything changed.
The place where Vanessa hit me.
The place where Nathan chose silence.
It felt like another lifetime.
Nathan went upstairs.
I followed.
His office was locked.
He took out a key.
I noticed his hand shaking.
"Why are you nervous?""
He didn't look at me.
"Because I know what you're going to find.""
The door opened.
The office smelled like old paper and coffee.
Nathan went straight to a cabinet.
He opened it.
Inside were files.
Hundreds of them.
I stared.
"You kept everything?""
"Yes.""
"Why?""
He looked at me.
"Because I knew one day you would ask.""
The answer hurt.
Because he had been waiting for me to discover the truth instead of telling me.
He handed me a folder.
"This is it.""
I opened it.
The first page was the transfer agreement.
The signature was there.
My name.
My handwriting.
Or something close enough to fool everyone.
I looked at the date.
My heart stopped.
Because the date wasn't three years before my father's death.
It was two months after my wedding.
I looked at Nathan.
"Why did Claire say three years?""
He looked confused.
"I don't know.""
I turned the page.
There was another document underneath.
A bank authorization.
Another signature.
Another copy.
But this one had a witness.
I read the name.
And my blood went cold.
Nathan Carter.
"You witnessed this.""
He didn't speak.
"Nathan.""
His eyes closed.
"Yes.""
The anger came back.
"You witnessed someone signing as me?""
"I didn't know it wasn't you.""
"You didn't know?""
"No.""
He looked desperate.
"Emily, your father asked me to handle some financial paperwork. He said you were aware.""
I stared.
"My father said that?""
"Yes.""
"And you believed him?""
"I loved him.""
I stepped back.
"And me?""
The question hung between us.
Nathan looked destroyed.
"I loved you too.""
"Too?""
I shook my head.
"That's the problem.""
I put the folder down.
"You loved everyone.""
My voice became quieter.
"You loved your mother enough to protect her.""
"You loved your sister enough to excuse her.""
"You loved my father enough to keep his secrets.""
I looked at him.
"But you never loved me enough to tell me the truth.""
Nathan couldn't answer.
Because there was no answer.
My phone buzzed.
A message.
This time from Daniel.
*I found Claire.*
My heart jumped.
I opened it.
A location appeared.
Then another message.
*Emily, you need to get there before Nathan does.*
I looked at Nathan.
He was watching me.
"What?""
I locked my phone.
"Nothing.""
But he knew.
Because Nathan had always been good at reading people.
"Who was that?""
I didn't answer.
He stepped closer.
"Emily.""
I moved back.
"You don't get to ask me for honesty anymore.""
His face fell.
The words hurt.
Good.
They needed to.
I grabbed my coat.
"Where are you going?""
"To find Claire.""
Nathan's expression changed instantly.
"No.""
There it was.
Fear.
Again.
"Why?""
"Because if Claire is ready to talk, someone will try to stop her.""
I looked at him.
"Who?""
He hesitated.
Then said:
"I don't know.""
I smiled sadly.
"That's all you ever have.""
I walked toward the door.
But before I reached it, Nathan spoke.
"Emily.""
I stopped.
His voice was different.
Not defensive.
Not controlling.
Just broken.
"If you find out I was part of this...""
I turned slightly.
"What?""
He swallowed.
"Will you ever forgive me?""
I looked at the man I had spent half my life loving.
The man who had hurt me without ever raising his voice.
"I don't know.""
The honesty surprised him.
"And that's the first honest answer I've given you in years.""
I opened the door.
Outside, the night was cold.
My phone buzzed one more time.
A message from Daniel.
*Hurry. Claire is not alone.*
Then another message arrived.
From Claire.
May you like
Only four words.
*He found me first.*
