Chapter 2 - THE SIGNATURE THAT WAS ALMOST MINE
I did not sleep that night.
Not because Jessi invited me to stay.
She didn’t.
And she shouldn’t have.
I rented a room at a motel ten minutes away and spent Christmas Eve photographing every page she allowed me to copy.
At 6:40 Christmas morning, I called a man I had not spoken to in almost five years.
Staff Sergeant Marcus Hale.
He had managed personnel and mail logistics during the first half of my deployment.
“Merry Christmas, brother,” he answered sleepily.
“Marcus, I need you to remember something from seven years ago.”
“That sounds healthy.”
“It isn’t.”
I told him about Jessi.
The pregnancy.
The returned letter.
My mother.
Marcus stopped joking.
“Ivan.”
“What?”
“Your mom did contact the unit.”
My stomach tightened.
“When?”
“Before we deployed.”
“What did she want?”
“Family-mail authorization.”
I sat upright.
“What?”
During some overseas assignments, service members could designate a trusted person to forward important correspondence or handle certain logistical mail issues if direct delivery became difficult.
“I never authorized her.”
Marcus went quiet.
“I saw the form.”
“Signed by me?”
“Yes.”
“I didn’t sign it.”
“Then we have another problem.”
He disappeared for twenty minutes.
When he called back, his voice was completely awake.
“I found an old scanned copy.”
My inbox chimed.
The document looked legitimate.
My service number.
My old address.
My signature.
And listed beneath FAMILY MAIL CONTACT:
WENDY STERLING.
I stared at it.
“That’s not my signature.”
“It fooled whoever processed it.”
“Could she have intercepted Jessi’s letters through this?”
“Some, maybe. Especially anything forwarded through your permanent address.”
I rubbed my face.
“Marcus, did any letter from Jessi ever reach me?”
“I don’t know.”
He paused.
“Wait.”
“What?”
“I remember something.”
My heart started pounding.
“You got a certified envelope.”
“When?”
“About two months into deployment.”
“From Jessi?”
“I don’t remember the sender. But it was personal, not military.”
“I never received it.”
“I know.”
“How do you know?”
“Because a woman called asking us to forward it back to your home address.”
“What woman?”
Marcus sighed.
“Ivan, I didn’t speak to her personally.”
“Who logged the call?”
He found the archived note.
Then read it aloud.
Caller identified herself as Wendy Sterling, mother. States family legal matter has been resolved. Requests personal certified correspondence be redirected to permanent address.
My hands started shaking.
There had been more than one letter.
“Do you still have the shipping record?”
“Yes.”
The envelope had been forwarded to my parents’ house.
Someone had signed for it three days later.
Not Wendy.
Arthur Sterling.
My father.
I stared at the digital signature.
Dad had always claimed he knew nothing about why Jessi stopped contacting me.
Now I knew he had personally received at least one of her letters.
Before I could call him, Marcus spoke again.
“Ivan, there’s something else.”
“What?”
“The certified envelope had an attachment code.”
I didn’t understand.
“What attachment?”
“Court correspondence.”
My breathing stopped.
Jessi had not only written to me.
She had sent something official.
Marcus read the classification.
May you like
NOTICE OF EXPECTED PATERNITY AND REQUEST FOR CONTACT.
And my father had signed for it.
