Chapter 4 - My Signature
“What?”
Connor swallowed.
“Your name is on three LLCs connected to Harbor Point.”
I stared at him.
“That’s impossible.”
“I’ve seen the paperwork.”
My father shouted, “He doesn’t know what he’s talking about.”
Connor looked at him.
“I’m your CFO.”
The ballroom seemed to shrink.
My heartbeat pounded in my ears.
I turned to Daniel.
“Did you know?”
“No.”
That answer came too quickly to be fake.
Daniel was already pulling out his phone.
Adrian looked at Connor.
“What entities?”
Connor named them.
“Beacon Shore Holdings. Palmer Street Management. And MBC Consulting.”
My initials.
Mabel Bridget Callahan.
My stomach dropped.
“MBC?”
Connor nodded.
“You’re listed as manager.”
“I’ve never heard of it.”
My father stepped toward me.
“Mabel, this is complicated.”
I looked at him.
My voice came out strangely calm.
“Did you forge my signature?”
“No.”
“Did you put my name on a company without telling me?”
“It was an administrative matter.”
“That isn’t an answer.”
“Mabel—”
“Answer me.”
My mother stepped in.
“Lower your voice.”
I laughed.
“Mom, he may have committed fraud in my name.”
“He’s your father.”
“That isn’t a legal defense.”
Her face hardened.
“Everything he did was for this family.”
There it was again.
Family.
The magic word they used whenever they wanted me to accept something that hurt me.
Daniel was typing rapidly.
“Connor, when were the entities formed?”
“Beacon Shore was six years ago. Palmer Street five. MBC four.”
Four years.
I remembered exactly where I had been four years earlier.
Living alone in a one-bedroom apartment in Cambridge.
Working twelve-hour days as a research analyst.
Driving home every Sunday because my mother complained that I “never made time for family.”
Dad sometimes left papers on the kitchen counter.
Insurance documents.
Tax paperwork.
Company forms.
“Sign there, Mabel.”
I trusted him.
My skin went cold.
“You had me sign things.”
Dad’s eyes moved away.
That was my answer.
“Oh my God.”
“Mabel, listen—”
“You told me they were insurance forms.”
“They were legitimate documents.”
“For companies I didn’t know existed?”
“It kept ownership diversified.”
“Why me?”
Nobody answered.
Connor did.
“Because Fiona refused.”
My sister stared at him.
“What?”
Connor looked sick.
“Aidan originally wanted some assets under your name.”
Fiona shook her head.
“No.”
“You told him you didn’t want business liability.”
“I didn’t know what he meant.”
“So he used Mabel.”
I turned toward my sister.
She looked frightened now.
Not guilty.
Frightened.
My mother whispered, “Aidan.”
My father snapped, “Everyone needs to stop acting like I robbed a bank.”
Daniel looked up from his phone.
“No. But you may have committed bank fraud, wire fraud, forgery, tax violations, and false certification.”
My father’s face turned purple.
“You come into my daughter’s wedding and threaten me?”
Daniel didn’t blink.
“I’m explaining potential exposure.”
My father pointed at me.
“This is because of her.”
Adrian moved between us.
“No. This is because of you.”
My father laughed bitterly.
“You think you know her? You think because you put a ring on her finger she became someone important?”
Adrian’s face changed.
I squeezed his hand.
“Don’t.”
But Dad kept going.
“She was a miserable child. Always hiding. Always jealous of Fiona. Always convinced the world owed her something.”
My throat tightened.
Adrian looked at him.
“I know she graduated first in her class.”
My father stopped.
“I know she paid off her student loans without asking you for a dollar.”
My mother blinked.
“I know she spent eighteen months taking care of your mother while the rest of you visited twice a month and posted photographs online.”
My eyes burned.
“Adrian.”
He squeezed my hand.
“I know she built a career you still call a ‘desk job’ because none of you ever bothered to ask what she actually does.”
Dad said nothing.
Adrian continued.
“And I know she asked me not to investigate you because, despite everything, she kept trying to protect her family.”
My mother looked at me.
For the first time all night, she looked unsure.
Then Daniel’s phone rang.
He answered.
Listened.
His expression went flat.
“When?”
A pause.
“Send everything.”
He hung up.
Adrian looked at him.
“What?”
Daniel glanced at me.
“We found the MBC documents.”
My stomach twisted.
“And?”
He hesitated.
“There’s more than your signature on them, Mabel.”
“What do you mean?”
Daniel turned the phone toward me.
On the screen was a notarized document.
My name.
My forged signature.
And beneath it was the name of the notary.
May you like
Kathleen Callahan.
My mother.
