My Stepmother Slapped Me for a Crime My Little Brother Had Already Recorded

I read the document three times.

Then I read it again.

The numbers didn't change.

Neither did the signature.

According to the records, more than $240,000 had been withdrawn from the trust over the previous two years.

The transactions included payments to a luxury car dealership, a private university, a home renovation company, and an account belonging to someone named Sienna Blake.

I felt sick.

My mother's money had paid for Sienna's life.

The expensive car sitting in our driveway.

The designer clothes hanging in her bedroom.

The tuition my father constantly bragged about covering.

All of it.

I looked at the date on the authorization form.

Six months earlier.

My supposed signature appeared beneath a paragraph stating that I had approved the withdrawal.

But I hadn't.

I had never even seen the document.

I took screenshots of everything.

Then I heard a soft noise behind me.

Noah was awake.

“Are you okay?””

I turned the phone toward him.

“Look at this.””

He climbed onto the bed and read slowly.

His eyebrows drew together.

“That's your name.””

“Yes.””

“But you didn't sign it.””

“No.””

He looked at the transaction list.

“Did Dad take your money?””

I didn't answer immediately.

I didn't want to say it out loud.

Finally, I whispered, “It looks like he did.””

Noah's eyes filled.

“Why would he do that?””

I stared at the screen.

“Maybe he thought I'd never find out.””

My phone vibrated again.

This time, it was a text from Margaret Ellis.

Miss Carter, I received your email confirmation. I would like to arrange a confidential meeting tomorrow morning. Please bring identification. Do not discuss the documents with anyone who may have access to your personal devices.

I immediately replied.

Can you explain what happened to the trust?

Her response came a minute later.

I can explain the transactions we have identified. However, there is a matter involving your father's authorization that requires an in-person discussion.

I stared at the message.

Then another notification appeared.

A message from Brielle.

Come downstairs. Your father wants to speak with you.

I looked at Noah.

“Stay here.””

He shook his head.

“I don't want you going alone.””

I squeezed his shoulder.

“I'll be fine.””

But I wasn't sure I believed myself.

The dining room looked different that evening.

A folder sat beside my father's plate.

Brielle had changed into a cream-colored silk blouse.

Sienna was eating strawberries from a glass bowl while scrolling through her phone.

Nobody looked particularly concerned.

My father pointed toward the chair opposite him.

“Sit down.””

I sat.

He pushed the folder toward me.

“We've arranged a temporary living situation with Aunt Renee.””

I looked at the papers.

“Why?””

“Because things have become unhealthy.””

“For whom?””

He sighed.

“Don't start.””

Brielle folded her hands.

“We want what's best for you.””

I looked directly at her.

“Then why are you trying to make me leave before my eighteenth birthday?””

Her expression changed.

Sienna stopped chewing.

My father frowned.

“What does your birthday have to do with this?””

I held his gaze.

“You tell me.””

Brielle quickly interrupted.

“She has been reading things she doesn't understand.””

I turned toward her.

“Like the trust records?””

My father's face went completely still.

Sienna lowered her phone.

“What trust records?””

Brielle shot her a warning glance.

I noticed.

So did Dad.

He leaned forward.

“What exactly have you seen?””

I kept my voice steady.

“Enough to know that money belonging to my mother was withdrawn.””

Nobody moved.

Then Brielle gave a small, dismissive laugh.

“Oh, for heaven's sake.””

My father looked at her.

“Brielle.””

She continued anyway.

“Your mother left money for the family. Your father had every right to use it to support this household.””

I stared at her.

“Then why did someone forge my signature?””

Her glass slipped slightly against the table.

My father stood.

“Where did you get that information?””

“Does it matter?””

“Yes, it matters!””

I looked at him.

“Did you sign a withdrawal authorization in my name?””

His face reddened.

“I managed those accounts.””

“That isn't what I asked.””

Brielle pushed her chair backward.

“This conversation is ridiculous.””

I turned toward her.

“Did you receive money from the trust?””

She stared at me.

“Excuse me?””

“Did Sienna's tuition come from my mother's trust?””

Sienna jumped up.

“Don't you dare bring me into this!””

“Your name is on the transactions!””

She looked at her mother.

Brielle's expression turned cold.

“Damon, this is becoming dangerous. She has clearly accessed confidential financial information.””

I looked at my father.

“Is it confidential because I'm not supposed to know that my own inheritance was used?””

He slammed his hand against the table.

“Enough!””

The silverware rattled.

Then he said something that made my stomach drop.

“Your mother and I had an arrangement. I was entitled to manage that money.””

“Manage it, or spend it?””

His eyes flashed.

“You have no idea what it takes to maintain this family.””

I stared at him.

“You mean maintain Brielle's lifestyle?””

Sienna stood.

“I'm not listening to this.””

She stormed out.

Brielle followed her, but not before turning toward me.

“You're making a terrible mistake.””

I looked back at my father.

“I'm meeting the attorney tomorrow.””

His face changed.

“What attorney?””

“Margaret Ellis.””

The color drained from his cheeks.

For the first time, he looked genuinely afraid.

He reached across the table.

“Give me your phone.””

I pulled it away.

“No.””

“Aaliyah, give it to me.””

“Why?””

“Because I need to know what she's told you.””

“She hasn't told me anything yet.””

“Then you don't need to meet her.””

I stood.

“I think I do.””

My father stepped around the table.

“You are not going anywhere tomorrow.””

I backed away.

“You can't stop me from asking questions.””

He grabbed my wrist.

Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to stop me.

“Aaliyah, listen to me. There are things you don't understand about your mother's estate.””

I looked down at his hand.

“Then explain them.””

He released me.

His shoulders sagged.

For a moment, he looked like the father I remembered.

“I made mistakes,” he said quietly.

My throat tightened.

“Then tell me the truth.””

He glanced toward the hallway.

Then he lowered his voice.

“Brielle and I were in a difficult financial situation. The business was struggling. I borrowed from the trust.””

“How much?””

He didn't answer.

“How much, Dad?””

“Some of it was supposed to be temporary.””

I felt tears gathering.

“You used my mother's money to pay for Sienna's car?””

He closed his eyes.

“And her tuition?””

Silence.

“And the renovations?””

He finally whispered, “Yes.””

I stepped back.

“You let me believe we couldn't afford to take me on family vacations. You moved me into a storage room. You made me feel like I was taking up space in my own home.””

“Aaliyah—”

“While you were spending Mom's money on them?””

His eyes filled.

“I was trying to keep everyone happy.””

I shook my head.

“You didn't even try to keep me happy.””

He reached for me.

I moved away.

Then I asked the question that had been haunting me since I saw the document.

“Did you forge my signature?””

He looked down.

And that silence was worse than any answer.

I walked upstairs.

When I reached my bedroom, Noah was waiting.

He had heard everything.

He hugged me without saying a word.

My phone vibrated.

Margaret had sent another email.

Miss Carter, I have reviewed the original trust documents. There is a significant issue beyond the unauthorized withdrawals.

I opened the message.

The final paragraph contained a sentence that made my entire body go cold.

Your mother specifically instructed that your father and any future spouse of his must not have access to the trust principal under any circumstances.

I read it again.

Then I noticed the attachment.

It was a copy of my mother's original will.

And beside one paragraph was a handwritten note.

*If Damon has allowed Brielle to influence the trust, contact Renee immediately. She knows what I discovered before my death.*

I looked at Noah.

“Aunt Renee knows something.””

Before I could say anything else, my phone rang.

It was Renee.

I answered.

Her voice was shaking.

“Aaliyah, I found something in my old files. Something your mother gave me before she died.””