Chapter 6 - The Account in My NameThe debt was real, the payments were real, and somehow none of it had anything to do with Naomi.
I spent the next morning at my bank.
I brought identification.
My phone.
The credit report.
Every document I had.
The banker looked at the account number.
Then at me.
Then back at the screen.
“This account was opened online.”
“By me?”
“I can't say that.”
“Was my identification used?”
She couldn't disclose everything without the proper fraud process, but she confirmed enough.
The account was linked to information connected to my parents' address.
The security questions referenced family details.
The original phone number was my mother's.
I felt numb.
“Has anyone accessed my account recently?”
She checked.
“Yes.”
“When?”
She gave me a date.
It was a date when I had been out of state for work.
I had never authorized anyone.
I filed a fraud report.
Then another.
The bank froze the account.
Sophie helped me document everything.
That afternoon, I called Dad.
He answered immediately.
“Naomi?”
His voice sounded exhausted.
“Did you open a loan in my name?”
Silence.
Long enough to become an answer.
“What are you talking about?”
“I found an account linked to my identity.”
“That's impossible.”
“It was opened using the family email.”
Another pause.
“Your mother handles some of the bills.”
“Did she open it?”
“You shouldn't be accusing her.”
“I'm not accusing anyone.”
My voice was calm.
“I'm asking you a question.”
He didn't answer.
Then he said:
“We were trying to help Derek.”
My heart stopped.
“So you did it.”
“I didn't open anything.”
“Dad.”
“I said I didn't.”
“Then who did?”
Silence again.
I closed my eyes.
“Does Mom know?”
He whispered:
“Yes.”
I ended the call.
Ten minutes later, Derek called.
“You need to stop this.”
I stared at his name.
I answered.
“What should I stop?”
“You know exactly what.”
“No, I don't.”
“You're digging into things that aren't your business.”
“My identity is my business.”
“This isn't what you think.”
“Then tell me what it is.”
He breathed heavily.
“You don't understand what was happening.”
“Explain it.”
“I was drowning.”
“And stealing my identity saved you?”
“Don't call it that.”
“What should I call it?”
He didn't answer.
“Derek.”
“What?”
“Did Mom open the account?”
“No.”
“Did Dad?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
His breathing changed.
I knew before he answered.
He said one name.
“Elaine.”
I frowned.
“Who is Elaine?”
“My business partner's wife.”
I stared at the wall.
“Why would she have my information?”
“She doesn't.”
“Then why did you say her name?”
He immediately hung up.
I sat there.
The conversation made no sense.
Which usually meant someone was lying.
That night, Sophie found something.
The mysterious $38,000 loan had been used as a transfer.
The money had not gone directly to Derek.
It had gone through three accounts.
Then into a trust.
A family trust.
Created eighteen months earlier.
The trustee's name was not Dad.
It was a woman named Elaine Porter.
I stared at the document.
“The woman Derek just mentioned.”
Sophie nodded.
“Exactly.”
“Why is she running a trust connected to my parents' property?”
“We need to find out.”
The trust had a beneficiary.
I expected Derek.
Instead, it listed:
Carter Family Residential Trust.
The asset schedule was incomplete.
But there was one property listed.
My parents' house.
I felt cold.
The house was no longer simply a house.
It was collateral.
It was part of a trust.
My parents had refinanced it.
Derek's business had received the proceeds.
A loan had been opened using my identity.
And someone named Elaine Porter sat at the center of the structure.
I looked at Sophie.
“Why would they need me out?”
She answered slowly.
“Because you may have been living in a house they were preparing to transfer.”
“To Derek?”
“Possibly.”
“Without my signature?”
“Maybe they had another plan.”
I looked at the trust documents again.
There was one missing page.
The beneficiary page.
Sophie noticed it too.
“That's what we need.”
“How?”
“County filings first. Then the trust records, if we can legally access them.”
I nodded.
Before she could continue, my phone buzzed.
A text.
Unknown number.
You were never supposed to see the trust.
Then another message arrived.
And you were never supposed to find out that your brother didn't lose the money.
I stared at the screen.
I typed:
Who are you?
The reply came instantly.
Ask Derek what happened to the woman named Claire.
My stomach dropped.
“Claire?”
Sophie looked at me.
“Who is Claire?”
“I have no idea.”
Another message appeared.
Claire was the reason the first plan failed.
Then the phone went dark.
Not from the battery.
From the network.
No service.
I looked at Sophie.
For the first time since this nightmare began, she looked genuinely alarmed.
“Naomi,” she said quietly.
May you like
“What?”
“I think someone knows you're investigating.”
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