Chapter 4: The Account
The account existed.
That was the first thing I learned.
The second thing I learned was that my mother had been signing my name for years.
Danny found the paperwork buried in the notebook.
My signature.
My information.
My money.
But not my permission.
"I don't understand," Danny said.
We sat in June's living room while rain hit the windows.
"How could she do this?""
I stared at the documents.
"Because everyone believed her.""
June reached for my hand.
"Not everyone.""
I looked at her.
She smiled sadly.
"I never did.""
The bank records showed something worse.
My monthly transfers were divided.
Some went toward actual bills.
Most went somewhere else.
A private account.
A savings account.
One that grew quietly for years.
"Whose name is on it?"" Danny asked.
I turned the page.
The answer made me freeze.
"Mine.""
Danny stared.
"What?""
"It says it's mine.""
June looked confused.
"But you never opened it.""
"No.""
Then Danny noticed something.
A signature.
A small detail.
He picked up the paper.
"Wait.""
"What?""
He pointed.
"This isn't your signature.""
I looked closer.
He was right.
Someone had copied my name.
Badly.
But enough.
My mother hadn't just lied.
She had built an entire story around a crime.
That evening, she came to June's house.
Alone.
When she knocked, nobody moved.
Then she said:
"Tori, please.""
Her voice sounded different.
Not angry.
Not confident.
Afraid.
I opened the door.
She stood there holding an envelope.
"What now?""
She looked exhausted.
"I need you to understand.""
I almost closed the door.
But something stopped me.
"What?""
She handed me the envelope.
"I didn't know it would go this far.""
I opened it.
Inside was a copy of a document.
A document I had never seen.
My birth certificate.
Except there was something written on the back.
A note.
Four words.
*Ask about the adoption.*
I looked at my mother.
"What is this?""
Her face changed.
For the first time, she looked genuinely terrified.
"Tori...""
"What does this mean?""
She stepped back.
"I can't tell you.""
My voice hardened.
"You owe me the truth.""
She looked toward the house.
Toward June.
Toward Danny.
Then whispered:
"Your grandmother knows.""
I turned around.
May you like
June was standing behind me.
And she looked like she had been waiting twenty-nine years for this moment.
