Chapter 5 - THE SIGNATURE
I couldn't stop staring at the document.
My name.
My birth date.
An address I recognized.
Our old home.
The signature at the bottom looked childish.
But it was mine.
Or close enough to mine to make my stomach turn.
“I didn't sign this.”
My father answered immediately.
“I know.”
“Then why is my name here?”
He looked exhausted.
“Because Daniel used it.”
I stepped back.
“What?”
My mother covered her mouth.
My father continued.
“Not legally. Not with your permission.”
“Then why?”
“Because he believed someone was trying to use our family to move money.”
I looked at the document again.
“Why would putting my name on anything help?”
“Because you were a minor.”
I stared at him.
“That makes no sense.”
“It did to Daniel.”
My father walked toward the window.
“Daniel believed the person behind the fraud wanted an innocent name attached to the transactions. Someone who could not possibly understand what was happening.”
My voice became cold.
“So you used me.”
“No.”
“You let him use me.”
“I didn't know.”
“That's supposed to make me feel better?”
He looked at me.
“No.”
The silence hurt more than an argument.
I had spent my entire life believing my parents had protected me from everything.
Now I was discovering that they had protected me by keeping me ignorant.
Sometimes ignorance wasn't protection.
Sometimes it was simply delayed pain.
Victor remained near the door.
“You deserve the truth.”
I looked at him.
“You've been following me.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because the people who created this never stopped looking for the ledger.”
“Who are they?”
Victor didn't answer.
Instead, he pointed to the watch in my hand.
“The watch belonged to Daniel.”
“Yes.”
“Open it.”
I frowned.
“It doesn't open.”
“It does.”
I examined the cracked casing.
There was a tiny indentation near the crown.
I pressed it.
The back clicked open.
Inside was a miniature photograph.
My father and Daniel.
Young.
Standing outside the original workshop.
Between them stood another man.
Arthur Vance.
I recognized him immediately.
My father's expression changed.
“You knew him.”
“Yes.”
“Why was he with Daniel?”
My father sat down.
“Because Arthur was one of our investors.”
Victor interrupted.
“And because he knew about the shell companies.”
My mother shook her head.
“Arthur wasn't involved.”
Victor looked at her.
“You believed that.”
That distinction mattered.
I turned to him.
“What happened twenty years ago?”
Victor finally began explaining.
Elliot Crane had created several shell companies.
Money from Shepherd Metal Works had been moved into them.
But the money didn't stay there.
It eventually flowed into property acquisitions.
Several of those properties became part of early Vance development projects.
Arthur Vance had benefited.
But Victor insisted Arthur wasn't the mastermind.
“He was greedy,” Victor said.
“Greedy isn't the same as criminal.”
“No.”
Victor looked at me.
“That's why the truth is complicated.”
My father nodded slowly.
“Daniel discovered that Elliot had been working with someone else.”
“Who?”
“Someone inside our family.”
My heart stopped.
“Who?”
My father looked at my mother.
She shook her head.
“I don't know.”
Victor said quietly,
“You do.”
I turned.
He was looking at my father.
My father closed his eyes.
Then whispered,
“Your grandfather.”
The room went silent.
“My grandfather?”
“He had been secretly investing with Elliot.”
“Why?”
“To keep the company alive.”
That revelation changed everything.
The Shepherd family had nearly collapsed twenty-one years ago.
My grandfather had borrowed money.
Elliot had arranged financing.
Some of it was legitimate.
Some wasn't.
When Daniel discovered the fraud, he tried to separate the legal money from the illegal money.
But someone altered the records.
And Abigail's name became attached to the shell company.
My father had spent years trying to remove it.
Daniel had disappeared because he believed the person responsible would eventually come for him.
“But Daniel didn't disappear,” I said.
Victor nodded.
“He went into hiding.”
“Where?”
“I don't know.”
“You said he disappeared.”
“I said he went into hiding.”
I felt anger rising.
“You've been watching my family for twenty years and don't know where he is?”
Victor's expression softened.
“I know where he was.”
Past tense.
My stomach dropped.
“What happened?”
“He died.”
My mother began crying.
My father looked devastated.
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
“How?”
Victor hesitated.
“Cancer.”
The room went still.
I didn't know whether to believe him.
Then Victor pulled out another object.
A small brass key.
Stamped with the same number.
17.
“He gave me this.”
My father stood.
“Daniel gave you the key?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“Two weeks before he died.”
“Why didn't you tell us?”
“Because he asked me not to.”
“Why?”
Victor looked at me.
“Because he believed your family was still being watched.”
I glanced at the ledger.
“What did he want me to know?”
Victor nodded toward the red cover.
“Read the last page.”
I turned to it.
The handwriting was Daniel's.
Only three lines.
The money was never the real secret.
The name on the documents was never the real owner.
Ask who benefits when Abigail believes her own family betrayed her.
I stared at the words.
Then looked at Victor.
“What does that mean?”
Before he could answer, my phone rang.
It was Charlotte.
I almost didn't answer.
But I did.
Her voice was trembling.
“Abigail?”
“What happened?”
“I found something.”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Tell me.”
“I looked through Brandon's old things.”
I frowned.
“Why?”
“Because I remembered something.”
“What?”
“A folder.”
“What folder?”
“The one he brought home after your company holiday party two years ago.”
My pulse quickened.
“What was inside?”
“I don't know.”
“Then why are you calling?”
“Because I opened it.”
Silence.
“Charlotte?”
“I found a copy of a property deed.”
“What property?”
She whispered the address.
I knew it.
My parents' original warehouse.
The one we had sold five years earlier.
I closed my eyes.
“Who is the owner?”
Charlotte hesitated.
Then said,
“Brandon.”
My blood ran cold.
I looked at Brandon.
He was staring at me.
Charlotte continued.
“And Abigail…”
“Yes?”
“The deed isn't real.”
“What?”
“Someone forged Brandon's name.”
I felt the room shift.
Then she said the words that made everything worse.
“But there’s another name underneath it.”
“Whose?”
Charlotte whispered,
May you like
“Yours.”
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