Chapter 4: The Name on the Forged Signature
For three seconds, nobody moved.
Dad stared at the screen of his phone as if the letters might rearrange themselves into something less terrible.
Brianna Carter.
My sister's name.
The beneficiary of a business I'd never known existed.
Mom reached for the phone.
"Let me see that.""
Dad pulled it away.
"No.""
"Daniel, you're misunderstanding what you're reading.""
"Then explain it.""
Her lips parted, but she said nothing.
I stepped closer.
"Why is Brianna listed as the beneficiary?""
Mom looked at me, and the expression on her face made my stomach turn.
Not confusion.
Not surprise.
Calculation.
"Mia, this is a legal matter. You shouldn't jump to conclusions.""
I almost laughed.
"You've been telling me all morning that the trust was never supposed to be mine. Now Dad says Brianna's name is on the paperwork. What conclusion am I supposed to draw?""
Mom lowered her voice.
"Your grandmother changed her mind.""
"Then why didn't you tell me?""
"Because there were complications.""
"What complications?""
She looked toward the ballroom, where our relatives were still celebrating my ceremony.
"Mia, please. Not here.""
Dad turned toward her.
"You've said that three times today. Not here. Not now.
Not in front of the family. When exactly are you planning to explain why your fourteen-year-old daughter is listed as the beneficiary of a business that supposedly belongs to nobody?""
Mom flinched.
"She's not fourteen anymore in the eyes of the law for everything. She can inherit property.""
"That's not what I asked.""
I looked down at the silver vines on my dress.
Only hours earlier, I'd thought the worst thing that could happen to me was losing the one beautiful thing I'd worked so hard to afford.
Now I was learning that my grandmother might have left me something far more valuable, and my own mother might have helped someone else take it.
I swallowed.
"Is there something you want to tell me, Mom?""
She looked at me for a long moment.
Then she reached for my hands.
"Mia, I love you.""
I pulled away.
"That's not an answer.""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"You have no idea how difficult things have been since your grandmother died.""
Dad's expression hardened.
"Then tell us what happened.""
Mom glanced at the phone again.
"The workshop was in debt. There were taxes, maintenance costs, unpaid bills. Someone had to manage everything.""
"Who?"" I asked.
She didn't answer.
Dad's voice dropped.
"Linda. Who managed the property?""
She pressed her lips together.
Finally, she whispered, "I did.""
The words seemed to drain the color from her face.
I stared at her.
"You managed Grandma's workshop?""
"Someone had to.""
"And you told us it was closed.""
"It wasn't operating as a dressmaking business.""
"Then why was rent being collected?""
Mom looked away.
Dad stepped back as if she'd struck him.
"How much rent?""
"I don't remember.""
"Eight years of rent, Linda. How much?""
"I said I don't remember!""
Her voice cracked across the corridor.
A couple passing the doorway glanced at us, then hurried away.
I felt suddenly cold.
My mother had always known how to make me feel guilty for asking questions. A sigh, a disappointed look, a reminder of everything she'd sacrificed.
But now she was the one raising her voice.
She was the one refusing to answer.
And for the first time, I wasn't going to let her change the subject.
"Why is Brianna's name on the trust?""
Mom wiped her cheeks.
"Because I believed she would be better suited to managing the business.""
I blinked.
"Brianna doesn't even know how to sew a button.""
"That's enough.""
"She doesn't care about fashion. She doesn't care about Grandma's work. She doesn't even know what the workshop looks like!""
"Your sister has other talents.""
"Like pouring paint on my dress?""
Mom's face tightened.
"Do not use this morning against her.""
I stared at her.
"You used this morning against me before I even had a chance to explain what happened.""
She looked away.
Dad took a slow breath.
"We're leaving.""
Mom grabbed his sleeve.
"Daniel, please. We cannot do this in front of everyone.""
He gently removed her hand.
"Then perhaps you should have thought about that before keeping secrets from your family.""
He turned to me.
"Come on, sweetheart.""
We walked back into the ballroom together.
I could feel people watching us. Aunt Denise stood beside Grandma Evelyn, her expression unusually serious. Brianna sat at a table near the windows, tapping her nails against her phone.
When she saw us, she slipped the phone into her purse.
Dad approached her.
"Brianna, I need you to come with us.""
She frowned.
"Why?""
"We need to discuss Grandma Margaret's estate.""
Her face changed.
Only slightly.
But I saw it.
The smallest tightening around her eyes.
Then she laughed.
"What does that have to do with me?""
Dad looked at her steadily.
"Your name appears on a document identifying the beneficiary of the workshop.""
Brianna stood so quickly that her chair scraped against the floor.
"That's impossible.""
Mom, who had followed us into the room, froze.
I watched Brianna.
"Why is it impossible?""
"Because I don't know anything about a workshop!""
"Then why are you so upset?""
"I'm not upset!""
She snatched her purse from the table.
"You're all acting like I'm some kind of criminal because of a stupid piece of paper.""
Dad didn't move.
"Nobody has accused you of anything. We are asking questions.""
"Well, stop asking me!""
She turned toward Mom.
"Tell them!""
Mom stared at her.
For the first time in my life, I watched my mother fail to rescue Brianna from a situation she'd created.
Or perhaps from a situation someone else had created for her.
Brianna's voice became shrill.
"Mom!""
Mom closed her eyes.
"Brianna, sit down.""
"No!""
Her sudden scream silenced the nearby tables.
She grabbed her purse and stormed toward the exit.
Aunt Denise stepped into her path.
"Young lady, you're not going anywhere until somebody explains why your name is on those documents.""
Brianna glared at her.
"Move.""
"Not until you answer one question. Have you ever been to Margaret's workshop?""
Brianna hesitated.
It lasted less than a second.
But it was enough.
Aunt Denise noticed.
So did Dad.
And so did I.
Brianna shoved past her aunt and ran outside.
Mom started after her.
Dad caught her wrist.
"Let her go.""
"She's frightened!""
"Then she can come back when she's ready to tell the truth.""
Mom stared at him with something close to hatred.
"You have no idea what you're doing.""
Dad released her.
"Maybe not. But I'm done pretending nothing is wrong.""
He called the attorney again and asked him to send copies of every document associated with the trust.
Then he led me to a quiet table at the back of the room.
I sat down slowly.
My hands were trembling.
"What if the workshop really belongs to Brianna?"" I asked.
Dad pulled out a chair.
"Then we'll find out why.""
"And if Grandma wanted her to have it?""
"Then we'll respect your grandmother's wishes.""
I looked down at my dress.
"What if Grandma wanted me to have it, and somebody changed the paperwork?""
Dad didn't answer immediately.
Then he reached across the table and covered my hand with his.
"Then we'll find out who did it.""
A few minutes later, Aunt Denise joined us.
She placed her purse on the table and sat down without asking permission.
"Daniel, I need to tell you something.""
Dad looked up.
"About the workshop?""
She nodded.
"I should have told you years ago.""
My heartbeat quickened.
"What do you know?"" I asked.
Aunt Denise glanced toward the windows, where Brianna stood beside Mom near the parking lot.
Then she lowered her voice.
"Margaret never intended the workshop to go to Linda.""
Mom, who had just returned to the ballroom alone, stopped behind her sister.
Aunt Denise didn't notice.
"Margaret told me that herself," she continued.
"She said she wanted Mia to inherit it when she was old enough to understand what it meant.""
Mom's voice cut through the air.
"That is a lie.""
Aunt Denise turned slowly.
"No, Linda. It's the truth. And you know it.""
Mom stepped toward the table.
"You promised you would never bring this up.""
"I promised to give you time to make things right. I didn't promise to lie forever.""
Dad rose.
"Make what right?""
Aunt Denise reached into her purse and pulled out a folded envelope.
The paper was yellowed at the edges, and my grandmother's name was written across the front in elegant handwriting.
"I kept this because Margaret gave it to me before she died," she said.
"She told me to open it only if someone tried to take the workshop away from Mia.""
Mom stared at the envelope.
Her face turned white.
Dad extended his hand.
"What does it say?""
Aunt Denise looked at me.
"I think it's time you heard your grandmother's own words.""
She placed the envelope in front of me.
And before I could open it, Mom lunged across the table.
"Don't you dare!""
The envelope slid toward the edge.
Dad caught it.
He looked at my mother with an expression I had never seen before.
"Linda," he said quietly, "what exactly are you afraid we'll find inside?""
She didn't answer.
Because for the first time, there was nowhere left for her to hide.
May you like
And when Dad opened the envelope, the first line of my grandmother's letter changed everything.
To my beloved granddaughter, Mia, if you are reading this, someone has tried to steal the future I promised you.
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