Chapter 4: The Signature That Wasn’t Hers
I stared at the document until the words stopped looking like words.
The paper shook in my hands.
Not because I was scared of the signature.
Because I recognized it.
The handwriting.
The careful curves.
The way the letters leaned slightly to the right.
It wasn’t my mother’s.
It wasn’t Ryan’s.
It was my father’s.
My father had signed a document connected to my mother’s name.
A document that transferred control of something I didn’t understand.
I looked at Ryan.
“What am I looking at?””
He didn’t answer immediately.
The silence made my anger rise.
“Ryan.””
He sat forward.
“Your father knew someone was using your mother’s identity.””
“Then why would he sign this?””
“He didn’t.””
I frowned.
“What?””
Ryan pointed to the bottom corner of the page.
“Look closer.””
I moved the paper toward the sunlight.
There was a signature.
Then a date.
Then a witness section.
But the signature wasn’t actually complete.
The last stroke was missing.
Like someone had copied the beginning and stopped before finishing.
I looked at Ryan.
“Someone forged it.””
He nodded.
“Yes.””
My stomach dropped.
“Who?””
Ryan looked away.
“I don’t know.””
“That’s impossible.””
“It’s not.””
“You lived in my father’s house for eight months. You had access to everything.””
His jaw tightened.
“I know.””
“Then why should I trust you?””
He looked at me.
For a second, I saw something I hadn’t seen since we were teenagers.
Pain.
“Because your father trusted me enough to ask me to protect you.””
I wanted to believe him.
That was the worst part.
I wanted to believe the person I had known most of my life wasn’t a liar.
But every piece of my world had changed in less than twenty-four hours.
“My father died three years ago,” I said quietly.
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this?””
Ryan looked down.
“Because he made me promise.””
I laughed.
A bitter sound.
“You expect me to believe that?””
“Yes.””
“Why?””
“Because your father knew you.””
That hurt.
“What does that mean?””
Ryan took a deep breath.
“He knew you would fight.””
I stared at him.
“He knew you would go after whoever did this. He also knew whoever was behind it would come after you.””
The wind moved through the trees around us.
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then I asked the question I had been avoiding.
“How long have you known?””
Ryan’s eyes dropped.
“About the documents?””
“No.””
I stepped closer.
“How long have you known something was wrong with my family?””
His silence answered before he did.
“Before your father died.””
My heart sank.
“You knew?””
“I suspected.””
“You suspected my family was falling apart and you said nothing?””
“I was trying to protect you.””
“No.””
My voice cracked.
“You were protecting yourself.””
Ryan looked like I had hit him.
Good.
I needed him to feel something close to what I felt.
“You were my best friend,” I said.
“I know.””
“You sat at my father’s funeral.””
“I know.””
“You hugged me and told me everything would be okay.””
“I know.””
His voice broke.
“Because I wanted it to be.””
I looked away.
I hated that part of me still remembered him as my friend.
Not as the man standing in front of me.
A phone rang.
Ryan froze.
Not my phone.
His.
He looked at the screen.
The color disappeared from his face.
“Who is it?”” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
“Ryan.””
Slowly, he turned the phone around.
The name on the screen made my blood run cold.
*Linda.*
My mother.
He answered.
“Hello?””
I watched his expression change.
“What?””
A pause.
Then another.
“Where are you?””
His eyes lifted to mine.
“She found out.””
My heart stopped.
“Who?””
Ryan ended the call.
He stood.
“We need to leave.””
I stepped back.
“What?””
“Jessica, listen to me.””
“No. You listen.””
My anger returned.
“Every person in my life keeps telling me to trust them while hiding things from me.””
Ryan grabbed the folder.
“Your mother wasn’t calling to apologize.””
“Then why was she calling?””
He looked toward the road.
“Because someone else is in the house.””
I felt a chill move through me.
“What someone?””
May you like
Ryan’s voice became almost a whisper.
“The person who has been waiting for you to come home.””
