Chapter 3 - THE GOLDEN CHILD WASN'T THE VICTIM
Ethan backed away from the table as if the document had burned him.
“You forged my signature?”
Mom's face went pale.
“It wasn't supposed to hurt you.”
“You borrowed money in my name!”
“I was protecting the family.”
“What family?”
Ethan's voice cracked.
“The family that spent forty thousand dollars on my wedding while telling Jake they couldn't afford flowers?”
My father stood.
“Ethan, calm down.”
“No!”
My brother slammed his hand against the table.
“You let me believe Jake was selfish.”
Nobody moved.
I looked at the loan agreement again.
There were several pages.
The loan amount was $145,000.
The collateral was a portion of the family trust.
And the final repayment date was less than four months away.
“What happens if it isn't repaid?” I asked.
My father looked at me.
“The trust loses the property.”
“What property?”
He hesitated.
“Grandfather's lake house.”
Ethan's face fell.
“That house was supposed to stay in the family.”
“It will,” Mom said quickly.
“No,” I replied.
Everyone looked at me.
“Not if the debt is real.”
Mom's expression changed.
“You're not taking anything from us.”
“I haven't taken anything.”
“You canceled everything.”
“Because I was paying bills you lied about.”
She stepped toward me.
“You think money makes you better than us.”
“No.”
I pointed at the documents.
“Forgery does.”
She flinched.
Ethan picked up another paper.
“This signature is from six months ago.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“My signature.”
He looked at Mom.
“I wasn't even in the state.”
The room went silent again.
Then my father sat down.
His shoulders suddenly looked much older.
“There are other documents.”
Mom turned sharply.
“Edward.”
“It's already over.”
“What does that mean?”
Dad looked at me.
“Your mother didn't create the loan.”
I waited.
“Who did?”
He swallowed.
“Her attorney.”
I frowned.
“Why would her attorney forge Ethan's signature?”
Dad shook his head.
“Because the money wasn't used for the family.”
Ethan's face went white.
“Where did it go?”
My father didn't answer.
I already knew this was bigger than a wedding, bigger than favoritism, bigger than my parents expecting me to pay their bills.
Someone had been moving money.
And my mother had been covering for them.
I took pictures of every document.
Mom tried to stop me.
“Those are private.”
“So is my identity.”
I walked toward the door.
Ethan followed.
Outside, he grabbed my arm.
“Jake.”
“What?”
“I think there's something else.”
He pulled out his phone.
“While you were inside, I checked the trust records.”
“And?”
“There's a transfer.”
“To whom?”
He showed me the screen.
My stomach dropped.
The recipient wasn't my mother.
It wasn't my father.
It wasn't even their attorney.
The money had gone to a company called Northbridge Holdings.
And the registered owner of Northbridge Holdings was…
Leah.
My wife.
I stared at the screen.
“That can't be right.”
Ethan looked at me.
“That's what I thought.”
My phone rang.
Leah.
I answered.
“Hey.”
Her voice was trembling.
“Jake, where are you?”
“I'm with Ethan.”
Silence.
Then Leah whispered:
“I need you to come home.”
“Why?”
“Because someone broke into our office.”
My blood ran cold.
“What did they take?”
Her answer was barely audible.
“Nothing.”
“Then why are you scared?”
“Because they left something behind.”
“What?”
“A photograph.”
“Of what?”
She started crying.
“Your mother.”
May you like
And beneath the photograph was a message:
STOP DIGGING.
