Chapter 8: The Identity They Stole
I read the message again.
Then I read it a third time.
*Ask why your mother has been using your Social Security number.*
My hands went numb.
I looked at Lorraine.
"Did you ever know Mom used my information for anything?""
She frowned.
"What do you mean?""
I showed her the message.
Her face changed.
"Zarya, don't assume this is true just because someone sent you an anonymous text.""
"I know. But what if it is?""
Daniel had already returned to his office when I called him.
He listened without interrupting.
Then he said, "Bring the message to me. Don't contact the sender.""
We went back upstairs.
He printed the text and added it to the evidence file.
"Have you ever received mail from employers you didn't work for?"" he asked.
I thought about it.
"No.""
"Tax documents?""
"Just the ones from the grocery store and catering company.""
"Have you ever been asked to sign employment paperwork on behalf of your mother?""
"No.""
Daniel nodded.
"Then we should check your records through the appropriate channels. We shouldn't assume identity theft, but given what's happened, it's reasonable to investigate.""
Tessa sat beside me.
"I remember something.""
I turned.
"What?""
"Last year, when you were working those weddings, you told me your mother wanted you to fill out a new tax form.""
I frowned.
"She said the catering company needed updated paperwork.""
"Didn't you tell me she had already filled most of it out?""
I remembered.
I'd been seventeen.
Mom had handed me a stack of papers and told me to sign where the yellow stickers were.
I'd been rushing to finish an English assignment.
I hadn't read everything.
"She said it was just payroll information.""
Daniel wrote something down.
"Do you remember the company name?""
"Collins Event Catering.""
"Did you receive paychecks directly?""
"Sometimes. Other times, Mom collected them because she said she was managing the family finances.""
Daniel looked up.
"Did you ever receive a W-2?""
"Yes. For the hours I worked.""
"Keep those documents.""
He made a note to request copies of the relevant payroll records through proper channels.
Then he asked me to describe every job I'd worked since turning sixteen.
I told him about the grocery store.
The catering company.
The weekend cleaning jobs.
The graduation parties where I worked fourteen hours carrying trays and washing dishes.
I remembered one summer when I had worked six days a week.
My mother had said the extra money would help us catch up on bills.
I had handed over nearly every paycheck.
Now I wondered whether she'd been telling me the truth.
At noon, we went to a local credit union.
Daniel had recommended that I review my credit reports and place appropriate fraud alerts if anything suspicious appeared.
The employee helped me verify my identity.
A few minutes later, she returned with a printed summary.
"Ms. Bennett, there are several items you may want to review.""
I stared at the page.
There was a credit inquiry from a furniture financing company.
Another from a telecommunications provider.
And a small personal loan application.
All dated within the previous eighteen months.
I looked up.
"I never applied for these.""
The employee remained professional.
"Then I recommend contacting each institution's fraud department.""
Daniel took the document.
"Please don't make any changes to these records without preserving the details.""
The employee nodded.
I felt dizzy.
"How much money?""
She pointed to the loan application.
"One application was for $8,500. I can't confirm whether it resulted in an account without further verification.""
Eight thousand five hundred dollars.
I had spent the last two years worrying about whether I could afford a decent pair of shoes.
Someone had apparently tried to borrow thousands of dollars using my identity.
My phone rang.
My mother.
I answered before I could think.
"Did you use my Social Security number?""
Silence.
Then:
"Where did you hear that?""
My blood ran cold.
"That's not an answer.""
"Zarya, don't start another argument.""
"Did you?""
She sighed.
"Marcus handled some paperwork. I don't know what he put where.""
"Did you give him my information?""
"He needed it for the family business.""
"I'm eighteen!""
"You were part of the household!""
"That doesn't give you permission to use my identity.""
My mother raised her voice.
"Everything I've done has been for this family!""
I closed my eyes.
"Did you take out a loan in my name?""
"I didn't take anything!""
"Then why is there a loan application?""
She stopped talking.
I heard Marcus in the background.
Then my mother said, "You need to come home. We can't discuss this over the phone.""
"I don't trust you.""
"How can you say that?""
I almost laughed.
How could I say that?
Because she'd canceled my scholarship.
Because she'd changed my university records.
Because she'd tried to transfer my grandmother's house.
Because she'd allowed Marcus to use my identity.
But the worst part was that she still sounded offended.
As if my distrust were the greatest betrayal in the room.
"I'll speak to you when the records are verified," I said.
Then I hung up.
Tessa put her arm around me.
"You're shaking.""
"I don't understand why she keeps doing this.""
Lorraine stood near the window.
"Because she's afraid of losing control.""
I looked at her.
"Did you know about the loans?""
"No.""
"Did you know Marcus had been using my information?""
"No, Zarya.""
I believed her this time.
But belief wasn't forgiveness.
Daniel contacted the credit institutions and requested fraud investigations.
He also arranged for a forensic review of the forged property documents.
By late afternoon, we returned to Lorraine's house.
I sat at the kitchen table with my laptop.
I opened my old email account.
The one my mother had helped me create when I was thirteen.
I hadn't used it in years.
I tried the password I remembered.
It worked.
My inbox contained hundreds of unread messages.
School newsletters.
Promotional emails.
Old birthday notifications.
And several messages from Collins Event Catering.
I searched the word "payroll.""
A message from last December appeared.
Subject: *Employee Tax Documents — Confidential*
I opened it.
The email contained an attachment.
I downloaded it.
My name appeared at the top.
So did my Social Security number.
But the employer information was wrong.
I had worked for Collins Event Catering as a part-time server.
The document listed me as an administrative contractor.
My reported earnings were nearly four times what I had actually received.
I stared at the figures.
Then I opened another document.
It showed a second payment category.
*Business consulting services.*
I had never consulted for anyone.
I called Daniel.
He answered immediately.
"What's wrong?""
"I found something.""
I emailed him the documents.
A few minutes later, he called back.
"Zarya, these records are significant. Please don't delete anything.""
"Why?""
"The earnings reported under your Social Security number don't match the employment history you've described.""
"What does that mean?""
"It may indicate that your information was used for payroll or tax reporting beyond your actual work. We need an accountant or appropriate investigator to examine it.""
I swallowed.
"Can this affect my scholarship?""
"Not automatically. But we need to address it before it creates additional complications.""
I looked at the documents again.
There was another attachment.
A payroll authorization form.
At the bottom was my signature.
Again, it was almost right.
But the middle initial was missing.
And the handwriting looked too smooth.
I forwarded that, too.
Daniel called back five minutes later.
"Zarya, I recognize this document.""
"From where?""
"It appears to be connected to the same business entity listed in the attempted property transfer.""
I felt my stomach drop.
"What business?""
"Reed Family Holdings.""
Marcus's company.
I leaned back.
The anonymous message hadn't been random.
Someone knew what was happening.
But who?
I opened the email's metadata.
The message had been forwarded through an old account.
The sender's address was hidden behind an unfamiliar name.
I searched the subject line.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a second email.
It had arrived that morning.
No subject.
Only one attachment.
A photograph of a handwritten note.
I opened it.
The handwriting was my grandmother's.
Zarya, if they ever use your name to cover their debts, ask Daniel about the blue ledger.
I stared at the words.
Blue ledger.
I called Daniel again.
"Did Grandma have a blue ledger?""
He went quiet.
"Yes.""
"What's in it?""
"Your grandmother kept detailed records of every financial transaction involving Denise and Marcus. She asked me to preserve it.""
"Where is it?""
Daniel exhaled.
"At the estate storage facility.""
"Can we get it?""
"Tomorrow morning.""
I looked at the photograph.
There was something written in the lower corner.
A date.
The same date as the night Grandma fell.
And beneath it, a name.
*Denise Bennett.*
My mother hadn't just known about the inheritance.
She had been involved in something Grandma had carefully documented.
At 7:18 p.m., another message arrived.
This time, from Marcus.
*Marcus:* I know what you've been digging through.
Then:
*Marcus:* If you keep going, your sisters will be the ones who pay.
I stood so quickly my chair fell backward.
Lorraine rushed into the kitchen.
"What happened?""
I showed her.
She read the message.
Her face hardened.
"That's a threat.""
Daniel instructed us to preserve it and contact the authorities rather than respond.
But I couldn't stop thinking about Kaylee and Mia.
My mother might be angry with me.
Marcus might be desperate.
But my sisters were innocent.
I called Kaylee.
She answered almost immediately.
"Zarya?""
"Are you okay?""
"Yeah.""
"Where's Mom?""
"She went out with Marcus.""
I swallowed.
"Did they say where?""
"No. But Zarya?""
"What?""
"Marcus took Mia's passport from the drawer.""
My heart stopped.
"What passport?""
"The little blue one. Mom keeps it with the birth certificates.""
"Why would he take it?""
"I don't know. He said something about needing documents.""
I felt the room spin.
"Kaylee, listen to me. Don't touch anything. Don't leave the house with anyone unless Aunt Lorraine or I confirm it.""
"Okay.""
"Promise?""
"I promise.""
I ended the call.
Lorraine looked at me.
"What happened?""
"Marcus took Mia's passport.""
Daniel was silent for a moment.
Then he said, "Given the threats and the financial irregularities, we need to take this seriously.""
I looked at my sisters' photograph on the kitchen counter.
Something inside me became very still.
My mother had already tried to steal my future.
Marcus had tried to steal my grandmother's house.
Now he was threatening the children I had spent my entire life protecting.
I wasn't going to let him use them against me.
And the next morning, when Daniel opened the estate storage box, we finally discovered why my grandmother had kept the blue ledger hidden.
The first page contained a list of debts.
The second contained copies of bank transfers.
The third contained a photograph of a document bearing my mother's signature.
But the final page contained something none of us had expected.
May you like
A handwritten confession.
Signed by Marcus Reed.
