Chapter 4: The Second Name
The bank lobby smelled like coffee, printer paper, and rain-soaked coats.
Tasha sat beside me with both hands wrapped around a paper cup she hadn't touched.
Across the table, Daniel Reed arranged a stack of documents into neat piles.
Marcus wasn't there.
That was the first surprise.
The second was that my mother had refused to come.
“Your mother called this morning,” Daniel said.
“She said she was feeling unwell.””
Tasha gave a humorless laugh.
“She's fine.””
Daniel didn't respond.
He slid a document toward us.
“Before we begin, I need both of you to understand something. This meeting is not about assigning blame. It's about establishing what happened.””
I nodded.
Tasha whispered, “Then let's establish it.””
Daniel opened a file.
“The trust was created seven years ago after your mother's death.””
Tasha stared at the papers.
“She left it to both of us?””
“Yes.””
I frowned.
“Why did nobody tell me?””
“That is one of the questions we need answered.””
Daniel pointed to the first page.
“The trust divided the assets equally between you and Tasha. Marcus Johnson was appointed trustee because Tasha was a minor at the time.””
I looked at Tasha.
“You knew about the trust?””
She shook her head.
“I knew Mom left me something. Dad told me it was a small account. Maybe ten or fifteen thousand dollars.””
Daniel's expression tightened.
“She left considerably more.””
Tasha swallowed.
“How much?””
“Two hundred twenty-four thousand nine hundred twenty dollars.””
My mouth fell open.
“What?””
Daniel nodded.
“The trust was funded through life insurance proceeds, investment accounts, and the sale of a property.””
Tasha stared at him.
“So my half was over one hundred twelve thousand?””
“Yes.””
“And Maya's?””
“Approximately the same.””
I leaned back.
All those years.
The college applications.
The arguments over groceries.
The times Tasha had asked Marcus for bus fare.
He had been sitting on more than two hundred thousand dollars belonging to both of us.
I whispered, “He knew.””
Daniel nodded.
“He was the trustee.””
Tasha's eyes filled.
“Then why did he tell me I had almost nothing?””
Daniel slid another document across the table.
“This is where things become complicated.””
It showed a series of transfers.
Some were labeled *education*.
Others were labeled *housing*.
But the money had gone to accounts neither of us recognized.
Then Daniel pointed to one.
“Johnson Consulting.””
Tasha frowned.
“That's Dad's company.””
“Correct.””
I stared at the numbers.
“$24,000?””
Daniel nodded.
“Another $15,000 went there six months later.””
Tasha's voice cracked.
“And the rest?””
“Several transfers went toward vehicle payments, credit cards, and a mortgage account.””
I felt sick.
“His house?””
Daniel nodded.
“Partially.””
Tasha covered her mouth.
“He used my mother's money to pay for his house?””
“And yours,” Daniel said.
I looked at him.
“What do you mean, mine?””
Daniel pulled out another document.
“This is the transaction that concerns you.””
I recognized the dealership name.
The Highlander.
But underneath it was something different.
*Beneficiary Authorization: Maya Johnson.*
I shook my head.
“I never signed that.””
“I know.””
“But it has my name.””
“Yes.””
“Could someone have copied my signature?””
Daniel looked at me.
“That's what we're trying to determine.””
Tasha reached for the document.
She stared at my signature.
“I've seen this before.””
I looked at her.
“Where?””
“In Dad's office.””
My heart skipped.
“When?””
“A few months ago.””
“What were you doing there?””
“I was looking for my college tax documents.””
She paused.
“There was a folder with your name on it.””
“What folder?””
“I don't know. I didn't open it.””
Daniel leaned forward.
“Do you remember anything else?””
Tasha thought.
“Dad was printing something.””
“What?””
“I don't know.””
“Did you see Maya's signature?””
“No.””
She hesitated.
“But I saw Maya's driver's license.””
I sat up.
“My driver's license?””
“In the printer tray.””
A chill ran down my back.
“Why would he have a copy of my license?””
Tasha shook her head.
“I don't know.””
Daniel wrote something down.
Then he asked, “Did you ever give your father permission to access your personal documents?””
“No.””
I thought about it.
Then something came back to me.
“My school registration.””
Daniel looked up.
“What about it?””
“Last year, Mom said Dad needed a copy of my driver's license for school insurance.””
Tasha stared at me.
“Did you give it to him?””
“Yes.””
Daniel's expression changed.
“Do you still have the original?””
“Yes.””
“Good.””
He closed the folder.
“We're going to need it.””
I frowned.
“For what?””
“To compare signatures and determine whether your identification was used.””
Tasha reached across the table and squeezed my hand.
“I'm sorry.””
“For what?””
“I should have told you about the license.””
“You didn't know.””
“I knew something was wrong.””
I looked at her.
“How long?””
She looked down.
“Months.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because every time I tried to fight Dad, he made me feel like I was the problem.””
Her voice became quieter.
“He'd tell me Mom would be ashamed of me.””
That sentence hurt more than I expected.
I remembered every time Tasha had walked away from a family argument with her shoulders lowered.
Every time I'd stayed silent because I didn't want to make things worse.
I squeezed her hand.
“No more.””
She looked at me.
“No more what?””
“No more letting him decide what's true.””
Daniel nodded.
“That's exactly what you need to do.””
He gathered the documents.
“I've requested copies of the original trust records.””
“From where?”” I asked.
“The attorney who drafted them.””
Tasha stiffened.
“My mother's attorney?””
“Yes.””
“Does he still have the originals?””
“He says he does.””
Daniel's phone buzzed.
He checked the screen.
Then his expression changed.
“What?”” I asked.
He looked at us.
“The attorney just sent something.””
He turned his phone around.
It was a photograph of an old handwritten letter.
At the bottom was my mother's signature.
Tasha leaned closer.
I read the first line.
*If anything happens to me, do not let Marcus control my daughters' money without supervision.*
Tasha's breathing stopped.
I read the next line.
*I am afraid he will choose one child over the other.*
Neither of us spoke.
Daniel slowly lowered the phone.
“There is more.””
“What does it say?”” Tasha whispered.
He looked at the screen.
Then at us.
“Your mother wrote that she believed Marcus had already begun hiding money from the family.””
My stomach dropped.
Tasha shook her head.
“No.””
Daniel nodded.
“And she named the person she trusted to protect you.””
He turned the phone around again.
There was one final line.
A name.
Someone neither of us had seen in years.
Tasha stared at it.
“That's impossible.””
I looked at her.
“Who is it?””
May you like
She whispered:
“Uncle Ray.””
