Chapter 5
I had never seen Arthur look so frightened.
He was the kind of man who stayed calm when everything went wrong.
When our basement flooded, he found the water valve.
When I broke my arm, he held my hand through the emergency room visit.
When my mother died, he somehow managed to comfort me while his own world was collapsing.
But now he was standing in our kitchen, gripping his phone like it was the only thing keeping him upright.
"What happened?" I whispered.
He raised a hand.
"Rachel, send me the documents immediately."
He listened.
Then said, "We'll come to your office."
He ended the call.
I was already standing.
"Arthur?"
He looked at me.
"Someone submitted paperwork requesting two hundred thousand dollars from your trust."
My knees weakened.
"What?"
"The request claims it's for your benefit."
"Who submitted it?"
He hesitated.
Then handed me his phone.
Rachel had sent a copy.
At the bottom of the form was a signature.
Maya Johnson.
My name.
My handwriting.
Except it wasn't mine.
"I didn't sign this."
Arthur nodded.
"I know."
I stared at the document.
It requested money for a business investment described as a career development opportunity.
The proposed recipient was a company called DMI Holdings.
I had never heard of it.
"What company is that?"
Arthur's jaw tightened.
"Derek's."
I felt the blood leave my face.
"No."
Arthur didn't respond.
"No," I repeated. "He wouldn't."
My voice sounded weak even to me.
Arthur placed a hand on my shoulder.
"Let's talk to Rachel before we decide exactly what happened."
But deep down, I already knew.
Derek had asked about the envelope.
He had wanted access to my inheritance.
He had been lying since graduation.
And now someone had placed my name on a financial request I had never seen.
***
Rachel's office was on the third floor of a quiet brick building downtown.
She greeted us personally.
She was a tall woman in her fifties, with kind eyes and a serious expression.
"Maya," she said, shaking my hand. "I've wanted to meet you for years."
I tried to smile.
"Under better circumstances, I hope."
"So do I."
She led us into a conference room.
On the table were several files.
Rachel sat opposite us.
"First, the good news. No money has been released."
I exhaled.
"Thank God."
"The trustee requires verification, and this request triggered several concerns."
"What concerns?"
Rachel turned the document toward me.
"The signature was submitted as part of a scanned authorization packet. The request also inaccurately states that you've already turned twenty-five."
I stared.
"I'm twenty-two."
"Exactly."
Arthur leaned forward.
"Can you identify who submitted it?"
Rachel nodded.
"The accompanying email originated from an address associated with DMI Holdings. The sender claimed to be an authorized financial representative."
I felt sick.
"Derek."
"We haven't completed an investigation," Rachel said carefully. "But we have enough reason to reject the request and preserve the evidence."
I stared at the false signature.
Someone had practiced writing my name.
Someone had tried to use my identity.
And the most obvious suspect was the man I had proudly called my real father.
"What happens now?" I asked.
"We can refer the documents to investigators. We can also notify the trustee and financial institutions to require additional identity verification."
Arthur looked at me.
"It's your decision how you want to proceed."
I turned toward him.
"You're not going to tell me what to do?"
"No."
"But you think I should report it."
"I think someone tried to take advantage of you."
His voice was firm.
"And I think you deserve protection."
Rachel slid another page across the table.
"There's something else."
My stomach tightened.
"What?"
"The company listed in the request appears to be experiencing significant financial difficulties."
She handed me a publicly available business filing.
There were unpaid judgments.
Past-due obligations.
A lawsuit from a former partner.
Derek's name appeared repeatedly.
I felt cold.
"So his company is failing?"
Rachel nodded.
"That appears to be the case."
I thought about the expensive watch.
The car.
The dinners.
The photographs.
All the things Derek had used to convince me he was successful.
"Was any of it real?" I whispered.
Rachel said nothing.
Arthur reached for my hand.
I didn't pull away.
***
When we left the office, I asked Arthur to drive me somewhere.
"Where?"
"Derek's business."
He frowned.
"Maya, I don't think that's wise."
"I need to see him."
"We can arrange a meeting with Rachel present."
I shook my head.
"I need to hear him tell the truth."
Arthur was quiet.
Then he said, "If you go, I'm going with you."
I nodded.
"Okay."
DMI Holdings occupied a small office in a business park.
The sign outside was faded.
Two parking spaces were empty.
The windows looked dusty.
This wasn't the glamorous company Derek described.
Arthur parked.
"Are you sure?"
I looked at the building.
"No."
Then I opened the door.
"But I'm going."
Inside, a receptionist sat behind a cluttered desk.
She looked startled when she saw us.
"Can I help you?"
"I'm here to see Derek Johnson."
"Do you have an appointment?"
"I'm his daughter."
Her expression changed.
"Oh."
She glanced toward a closed office door.
Then lowered her voice.
"He's in a meeting."
I heard shouting.
A man's voice.
Derek's.
"You don't understand! The money is coming!"
Another voice responded.
"You've been saying that for months!"
My heart stopped.
Arthur moved beside me.
The office door suddenly opened.
A middle-aged man stepped out.
He looked furious.
Derek appeared behind him.
Then he saw me.
"Maya?"
His face went pale.
The other man looked between us.
"Is this the daughter?"
Derek snapped, "Get out."
The man ignored him.
He looked directly at me.
"Did you authorize your father to use your inheritance to finance this company?"
I couldn't breathe.
"No."
The man's expression changed.
Derek rushed forward.
"That's enough!"
The man stepped back.
"Then someone needs to explain why her signature was on the proposal you showed me."
Silence.
I turned toward Derek.
"Tell me he's lying."
Derek opened his mouth.
Nothing came out.
"Tell me!"
He looked at Arthur.
"This is your fault."
Arthur stepped forward.
"No, Derek."
His voice was controlled.
"You don't get to blame me for your choices."
Derek's face twisted.
"I was trying to build something for my daughter!"
I stared at him.
"By stealing from me?"
"I wasn't stealing!"
"Then why did you forge my signature?"
Derek shouted, "Because you would never have agreed!"
The room went silent.
Even he seemed shocked by his own words.
I stared at him.
My ears rang.
He had admitted it.
Right in front of us.
I stepped backward.
"You only came back because of my money."
Derek shook his head.
"No. Maya, listen."
But I finally understood.
All the expensive dinners.
All the gifts.
All the promises.
All the times he called me princess.
They had started just before I turned twenty-one.
Just before I began asking questions about my future.
I looked at him.
"Did you ever love me?"
His face changed.
"Of course I did."
I waited.
He stepped closer.
"You're my daughter."
"Then why did you hurt me?"
He looked away.
And that silence answered more than any confession.
I turned toward Arthur.
"Take me home, Dad."
Arthur placed an arm around my shoulders.
We walked out together.
Behind us, Derek shouted my name.
I didn't turn around.
***
That evening, Rachel called.
She had informed the independent trustee and filed a formal report about the suspected forgery.
She also had news.
Derek had previously contacted her office several times asking about my trust's distribution schedule.
He had claimed I was interested in becoming an investor.
He had never mentioned those conversations to me.
Then Rachel asked a question that made me sit upright.
"Maya, have you given Derek copies of your identification?"
I thought for a moment.
"Yes."
Arthur looked at me.
"When?"
"Last month."
My voice began trembling.
"He said he was adding me to his family health insurance."
Rachel was silent.
Then she said, "We need to secure your personal information immediately."
I covered my mouth.
Because I had sent Derek everything.
My driver's license.
My Social Security number.
My date of birth.
My address.
He hadn't simply asked for my trust.
May you like
I had given him the information he needed to pretend to be me.
And suddenly, I wondered what else he had already done.
