Chapter 7 - Vanessa's SecretVanessa had always been the family's favorite.
She was beautiful.
Charming.
Outgoing.
The one who got invited everywhere.
The one who could cry her way out of anything.
My mother once told me that Vanessa had “a gift with people.”
I called it manipulation.
At first, I didn't understand why she would forge a document against me.
Then I remembered Isabella.
My niece's Sweet 15.
The $2,600 per person demand.
Maybe that wasn't about a party.
Maybe it was about money.
Officer Daniels met me at the station.
He placed a file on the table.
“Your sister submitted the power-of-attorney document three weeks ago.”
“Why?”
“She claimed your mother was incapacitated and needed financial assistance.”
My mother wasn't incapacitated.
“She also claimed you were the designated financial representative.”
“I wasn't.”
“I know.”
He opened another folder.
Bank records.
Transfers.
Several of them had been approved under a signature matching mine.
Except they weren't mine.
I pointed at one.
“This transfer was made the day Ethan had his birthday.”
Daniels looked at the amount.
$18,750.
The exact number from my mother's accusation.
I felt sick.
“Where did the money go?”
He slid the page toward me.
Vanessa's account.
I stared at it.
“Why would she steal from Mom and blame me?”
“Because your mother might not be the victim.”
I looked up.
“What do you mean?”
He explained that the account belonged to the trust.
The trust controlled by my mother's attorney.
The money was moving through several accounts.
Then eventually back to one central account.
Richard Sloan.
The attorney.
“This isn't a family dispute,” I whispered.
“No.”
Daniels leaned back.
“This looks coordinated.”
Then the station door opened.
Vanessa walked in.
She was crying.
“Amanda!”
She rushed toward me.
I stepped back.
“What do you want?”
“I never wanted this.”
“You filed the fake power of attorney.”
“I was trying to help Mom.”
“You accused me of stealing.”
“I was scared!”
“Of what?”
She looked at the officer.
Then at me.
“I can't say.”
“Why?”
She shook her head.
“Because they'll hurt Isabella.”
That stopped me.
“Who?”
She started crying harder.
“The same people who've been using Mom.”
I stared at her.
“What did you do?”
Vanessa covered her face.
“I signed papers.”
“What papers?”
“Transfers.”
“To where?”
“Companies.”
“Whose companies?”
She whispered:
“Richard's.”
Officer Daniels stood.
“Mrs. Whitaker, you're going to tell us everything.”
Vanessa looked at me.
“I didn't know what it was at first.”
“You knew enough to use my name.”
“I was told you would never notice.”
My blood ran cold.
“Who told you?”
She hesitated.
Then she said:
“Mom.”
The room became silent.
My mother.
I had spent years trying to understand why she treated Vanessa like a daughter and me like a burden.
Maybe I finally had my answer.
Vanessa pulled a small envelope from her purse.
She slid it across the table.
“This is the original.”
Inside was a contract.
I recognized the logo immediately.
The holding company.
My father's company.
And the beneficiary listed on the transfer was not my mother.
Not Vanessa.
Not Paul.
It was me.
Amanda Carter.
Underneath my name was a handwritten note.
Effective upon confirmation of death.
I looked at Vanessa.
“What is this?”
She whispered:
“Your father left you everything.”
May you like
Then she looked toward the station window.
“And Mom has spent three years trying to make sure you never get it.”
