Chapter 10 - The Forgery Question
Emily stared at the document Claire placed on the hospital tray.
The signature looked almost perfect.
The long loop in the capital E.
The slight tilt of the letters.
The way she crossed the t in Carter.
But something was wrong.
She leaned closer.
"That's not mine."
Claire waited.
"Are you certain?"
Emily nodded.
"I didn't sign that page."
"Do you recognize the document?"
"No."
"Could it have been included with other paperwork?"
Emily studied it again.
"I remember signing the refinancing folder Mark brought home. But I don't remember this authorization."
Claire nodded.
"Then we need to determine precisely what was presented, signed, and submitted. I don't want to draw conclusions before we have the originals and supporting records."
Emily looked at the date.
Three weeks before delivery.
That afternoon, she had been at the hospital for a fetal growth scan.
She remembered because Hope had been measuring smaller than her sisters.
She had spent nearly four hours in appointments.
Mark hadn't accompanied her.
He said he had a meeting.
Now a signature bearing her name appeared on financial paperwork dated that same day.
She looked up.
"Can they find out who signed it?"
"We can request the underlying records, including how the document was executed and verified. If there are grounds to suspect a forged authorization, we'll discuss the appropriate steps."
Emily nodded.
Her hands were trembling.
Rebecca reached for her water.
"Drink a little."
Emily took the cup.
For a moment, she stared at the flowers Mark had sent.
They were still sitting near the window.
White roses.
She suddenly couldn't stand looking at them.
"Becca?"
"Yeah?"
"Please get those out of here."
Rebecca immediately picked up the bouquet.
"No problem."
After she left, Emily looked at Claire.
"Can I ask something?"
"Of course."
"How do you stop loving someone?"
Claire's expression softened.
"Sometimes you don't stop all at once."
Emily's eyes filled.
"I hate him right now."
"That's understandable."
"But I remember who he was."
She looked at the photograph on her phone.
Mark painting the nursery.
Laughing with yellow paint on his nose.
A man she once trusted completely.
"He used to be kind."
Claire spoke gently.
"People can do kind things and still make choices that cause serious harm."
Emily wiped her eyes.
"I keep thinking if I had been different..."
"No."
Claire's voice was firm.
Emily looked up.
"You are not responsible for his decisions."
The room went quiet.
For years, Emily had heard versions of the same accusation.
She was too sensitive.
Too worried.
Too focused on pregnancy.
Too tired.
Too demanding.
Now, for the first time, someone had put the responsibility where it belonged.
On the person who made the choices.
Claire gathered her papers.
"We'll document everything. But your health comes first."
Emily nodded.
After the attorney left, she asked to return to the NICU.
The nurses helped her into a wheelchair.
Rebecca pushed her down the corridor.
Inside, Grace was receiving a feeding through a small tube.
Lily's nurse reported that her condition was improving.
Hope remained critically ill.
Emily sat beside her youngest daughter.
For nearly an hour, she did nothing but watch.
The rise and fall of the ventilator rhythm.
The small movements of Hope's hands.
The almost invisible expressions that crossed her tiny face.
Then an alarm sounded.
A nurse approached quickly.
Emily's body went rigid.
"What's happening?"
The nurse checked the monitor.
"Her oxygen level has dropped. We're helping her."
Another clinician came over.
Then another.
Emily gripped the wheelchair arms.
"Hope?"
The staff worked with practiced coordination.
The alarm continued.
Emily felt as though she were back in the operating room.
The bright lights.
The urgent voices.
The terrible silence after the first two cries.
Rebecca placed her hands on Emily's shoulders.
"Let them work."
Emily couldn't move.
"Please."
Her voice broke.
"Please, baby."
A minute stretched into something endless.
Then the monitor began improving.
The alarm stopped.
The team continued evaluating Hope.
Emily covered her mouth.
Dr. Reeves approached a few minutes later.
"She's stabilized."
Emily began to cry.
He crouched beside her.
"We're going to run some additional tests and reassess her treatment. Episodes like this can happen in very premature infants, but we take each one seriously."
Emily nodded, unable to speak.
Dr. Reeves waited.
Then he said, "Emily, I know you've been through an extraordinary amount. You don't have to carry every moment by yourself."
She looked toward Rebecca.
Her sister was crying quietly too.
Emily reached for her hand.
"I know."
That night, Mark arrived outside the NICU.
He had come to check on the girls.
A nurse explained that Hope had experienced an episode earlier but was stable under continued intensive care.
Mark's face went pale.
"Did Emily know?"
"She was here."
"Was she alone?"
"Her sister was with her."
Mark looked through the glass.
He could see Emily seated near Hope.
She was speaking softly to their daughter.
Rebecca stood beside her.
The sight hit him with unexpected force.
He had once been the person Emily turned toward whenever she was frightened.
Now she wasn't even looking for him.
He remained outside until Emily finally raised her head.
Their eyes met through the glass.
For a moment, neither moved.
Then Mark lifted one hand.
Emily looked at him.
Not with anger.
Not with forgiveness.
With an exhaustion deeper than either.
She turned back toward Hope.
And Mark understood that being physically present did not automatically mean he had been welcomed back into their lives.
Before he left, a hospital staff member handed him a message from Claire Donovan's office.
His attorney was requesting an urgent meeting.
May you like
Because Emily had challenged the authenticity of a financial authorization.
And this time, the consequences might extend beyond his marriage.
