Chapter 5 - ClaireThe woman my father claimed had disappeared had been waiting six years to find me.
Claire did not look surprised to see me.
She looked tired.
Not frightened.
Not angry.
Tired.
“You shouldn't be here,” Evan said.
She looked at him.
“I could say the same.”
I stepped forward.
“You know my parents.”
“Yes.”
“You worked for my father.”
“Yes.”
“He lied about you.”
She gave a bitter smile.
“He lied about almost everything.”
“Why did you send me the photograph?”
“Because nobody else was telling you the truth.”
I stared at her.
“What happened six years ago?”
Claire looked toward the metal cabinet.
“You found it.”
“You knew it was here?”
“I knew your mother stored things here.”
“What things?”
“Proof.”
She walked toward the cabinet.
I didn't move.
She pulled out a folder.
It had my father's name on it.
“Your father didn't build his company alone.”
“I know.”
“No. You don't.”
She opened the folder.
Inside were property maps.
Loan documents.
Copies of checks.
And photographs.
“Your father's company acquired distressed properties.”
“So?”
“Some were legitimate.”
She turned a page.
“Some weren't.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Claire looked at me.
“It means people were being pressured to sell.”
“By your father?”
“Yes.”
“And you helped him?”
“I helped him until I discovered what he was doing.”
I looked at the documents.
Claire continued.
“He was moving property through shell companies. He would borrow against one property, transfer it, borrow against another, and use new debt to cover old debt.”
“A Ponzi scheme?”
“Not exactly.”
“What then?”
“A family version of one.”
The phrase made my stomach twist.
Claire pointed at the trust document.
“The trust was created because creditors were getting close.”
“Why include my name?”
“Because your credit was clean.”
I felt something inside me crack.
“That's why.”
“Yes.”
“They used me.”
Claire nodded.
“For years.”
I sat on an old wooden crate.
“How much?”
Claire looked down.
“More than eighty-six thousand.”
My head snapped up.
“Then how much?”
She hesitated.
“Current exposure is somewhere around 1.2 million.”
Evan swore under his breath.
My hands were shaking.
“Are you telling me I could owe a million dollars?”
“Not necessarily.”
“But my name is on it.”
“Your forged name.”
She pulled another paper from the folder.
A signature verification report.
“This is one of the documents your father used.”
I looked at it.
The expert had marked discrepancies.
The report was dated three years ago.
Three years.
Someone had already questioned the signatures.
I looked at Claire.
“Why didn't you report him?”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I became the problem.”
Her eyes hardened.
“My business was destroyed. My reputation was ruined. My accounts were frozen. Then I received threats.”
“From my father?”
“Through people who worked for him.”
I swallowed.
“What happened to you?”
“I left.”
“Where?”
“Far enough away to survive.”
“Why come back?”
Claire looked at me.
“Because he started using your son's birth as leverage.”
I stared at her.
“What?”
“He told someone that once you had a child, you would become easier to control.”
My blood ran cold.
She continued.
“He believed you'd eventually need family support. He thought he could use access to your child to keep you obedient.”
Evan's hands clenched.
“He said that?”
“Yes.”
I felt sick.
“Why the birthday message?”
Claire's expression changed.
“That wasn't about your son.”
I looked at her.
“What?”
“The message was a warning.”
“From my mother?”
Claire nodded.
“They realized you were cutting financial ties.”
“How?”
“Your father monitors every account he can legally access.”
“I changed my accounts.”
“I know.”
“Then how?”
Claire reached into her coat.
She handed me a small USB drive.
“Because your mother has access to something you don't know exists.”
I didn't take it immediately.
“What is this?”
“A copy of their internal records.”
“From where?”
“Your mother.”
I looked at her.
“She gave you this?”
“No.”
“Then how did you get it?”
Claire's eyes shifted toward the cabinet.
“I took it.”
I picked up the drive.
“What's on it?”
“Everything.”
Evan looked at me.
“Everything?”
“Loan applications. Transfers. Internal emails. Notes. Copies of signatures.”
“And evidence of fraud?”
Claire nodded.
“Enough to hurt them.”
My pulse raced.
“Then why hasn't anyone used it?”
“Because one file is missing.”
“What file?”
Claire looked directly at me.
“The original authorization that allowed your father to use your identity.”
I frowned.
“Where is it?”
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Before I could respond, headlights swept across the basement window.
A car had stopped outside.
Claire's face changed.
“They found you.”
“Who?”
She grabbed the flashlight.
“Not your parents.”
Another vehicle pulled in.
Then another.
Claire whispered:
“Get upstairs.”
“Why?”
“Because whoever is outside is looking for the files.”
A door slammed upstairs.
Someone shouted.
“Check the basement.”
Evan grabbed my hand.
We ran.
And as we reached the stairs, my phone buzzed.
May you like
A message from my mother.
You should have stayed out of things that don't concern you.
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