Chapter 2 - THE ACCOUNT WITH MY NAME ON IT
Daniel showed me a bank transfer.
$150,000.
The exact price of Madison’s yacht.
The sender was something called the Emily Carter Irrevocable Trust.
I laughed.
Not because anything was funny.
Because sometimes your brain picks the stupidest possible reaction when reality becomes too ugly.
“I don’t have a trust.”
Daniel didn’t smile.
“Apparently, you do.”
He clicked another document.
My grandfather’s name appeared at the top.
Walter Carter.
Grandpa Walt.
The only person in my family who never treated love like a prize you had to win.
“He created trusts for all three grandchildren twelve years ago,” Daniel said.
“How much?”
“Originally? Two hundred fifty thousand dollars each.”
My mouth went dry.
I had joined the Army at nineteen because my parents told me they couldn’t afford college for me.
A year later, they paid cash for Madison’s private university.
I stared at Daniel.
“Where’s my money?”
“That’s what we’re finding out.”
He brought in a forensic accountant named Rachel Kim.
Within two hours, Rachel had pulled records that made my stomach turn.
There had been withdrawals from my trust for years.
$18,000.
$32,000.
$11,500.
$60,000.
And finally, $150,000 for the yacht.
Every transfer was authorized by my father, Robert Carter.
My mother, Susan, was listed as co-trustee.
“They were trustees?” I asked.
Daniel nodded.
“Until you turned twenty-five. At that point, control should have passed to you.”
“I’m thirty-one.”
Rachel looked uncomfortable.
“That’s the problem.”
She slid a paper across the desk.
The signature at the bottom said:
Emily Carter.
I stared at it.
“That’s not my signature.”
“We know.”
My pulse started pounding.
“What does this document do?”
“It extends your parents’ control of the trust.”
“Until when?”
Daniel answered.
“Until you turn forty.”
I looked again.
Someone had forged my name.
Not once.
Four times.
My phone rang.
MOM.
I stared at the screen.
Daniel said quietly, “Don’t accuse her yet.”
I answered.
Mom sounded strangely cheerful.
“Sweetheart! How’s the knee?”
Two days earlier, she had laughed while I begged for surgery.
Now she was calling me sweetheart.
“What do you want?”
A pause.
Then Dad’s voice appeared in the background.
“Ask her if she can come over tonight.”
Mom lowered her voice.
“Your father needs you to sign something.”
I looked at Daniel.
He was already shaking his head.
“What kind of something?”
“Oh, just boring family paperwork.”
My stomach turned cold.
“What paperwork?”
Another pause.
Then Dad took the phone.
His voice had lost all warmth.
“Emily, don’t make this complicated.”
I stared at the forged signature in front of me.
“What happens if I don’t sign?”
Silence.
May you like
Then my father said five words that told me everything.
“Then we have a problem.”
