Chapter 7: The Dead Man Who Signed My Name
“My father has been dead for six years.””
I heard the words leave my mouth, but they didn't seem to belong to me. I stared at the bank document on Detective Brooks's desk, at the digital certificate bearing Daniel Carter's name, and at the timestamp that claimed he had authorized a twelve-million-dollar transfer that morning.
Arthur Bennett took the paper from Brooks.
“Who verified the identity of the person who presented this certificate?””
“The bank is reviewing its security footage,” Brooks replied.
“The transaction was submitted electronically, but the certificate was activated in person.””
“Then someone impersonated Daniel.””
“Possibly.””
I shook my head.
“No. You don't understand. My father wasn't a wealthy man hiding twelve million dollars in a foundation.
He repaired watches. He drove a twelve-year-old sedan. He wore the same brown coat until the elbows went shiny.””
Arthur looked at me with an expression I couldn't read.
“People can live modestly and still control substantial assets.””
“Did you know about this money?””
He didn't answer quickly enough.
I stepped away from the table.
“You knew.””
“Nia, your father asked me to protect certain records. He didn't tell me the full extent of his holdings.””
“Why not?””
“Because he believed someone inside the legal system was working with the Hales.””
I glanced at Detective Brooks.
She didn't flinch.
“My involvement has been disclosed,” she said.
“The new investigator assigned to this case is already reviewing my actions. I won't be handling the financial investigation.””
“That doesn't explain the money,” I replied.
“No,” Arthur said.
“It doesn't.””
He opened his briefcase and removed a sealed envelope marked with my father's initials.
“I was instructed to give you this only if a transfer was attempted using Daniel's identity after his death.””
My fingers trembled as I took it.
The envelope had been sealed with red wax. Inside was a single handwritten letter and a small photograph of a building I had never seen.
I unfolded the letter.
Nia, if you're reading this, someone has attempted to access the final account. That means the people who threatened me have found the trail I tried to hide.
Do not trust the first person who tells you that the money belongs to you. Do not trust the person who tells you it belongs to the Hales, either.
The truth is held by the one person who has been missing from every version of your story.
I read the last line twice.
Find the woman who delivered you.
I looked up.
“Isabella was my birth mother. She gave birth to me at St. Catherine's.””
Isabella, sitting beside my mother, shook her head slowly.
“No. I was there, but I didn't deliver you.””
The room went silent.
“What?””
She wiped her eyes.
“I was admitted to the hospital because of complications during my pregnancy. I gave birth to you, but the doctor who delivered you was a woman named Dr. Miriam Vale. She was the only person who knew the complete medical record.””
Arthur picked up the photograph.
“Do you recognize this building?””
Isabella leaned closer.
Her face drained of color.
“That's the old St. Catherine's maternity annex.””
“It's been closed for years,” Brooks said.
“Not entirely,” Isabella replied.
“The hospital transferred its archived records to a private medical records company when the maternity wing shut down. Dr. Vale was appointed to oversee the transfer.””
“Do you know where she is now?”” I asked.
Isabella hesitated.
“Last I heard, she was living outside the city.””
My phone vibrated.
A new message from the unknown number.
The doctor is alive. Marcus knows where she is. If you want the truth, find her before he does.
A location followed.
An address near Ashford Lake.
Arthur immediately called the new lead investigator, Detective Samuel Reed, and shared the information. Reed agreed to meet us there, but warned us not to approach the address until his team arrived.
For once, I listened.
We left the station in two separate vehicles, with an unmarked police car following us. My mother sat beside me in the back seat, her fingers wrapped around the brass key.
“Are you angry with me?”” she asked quietly.
I looked at her.
“I don't know what I feel.””
She nodded as though she had expected that answer.
“I never wanted you to discover your life this way.””
“Did you know Dad had money?””
“No. I knew he had secrets. I didn't know about the foundation.””
“Why did he make you promise not to tell me about the second will?””
“Because he thought you would be safer if you knew nothing.””
I looked out the window at the passing buildings.
“Everyone keeps saying they were protecting me.””
My voice cracked.
“But nobody asked whether I wanted to be protected by lies.””
Mom began to cry silently.
I reached for her hand.
I wasn't ready to forgive everything, but I wasn't ready to lose her either.
When we arrived at Ashford Lake, the address led us to a small brick house surrounded by bare trees. A white mailbox leaned toward the road. The curtains were drawn, and a newspaper lay folded on the front step.
Detective Reed arrived two minutes later with another officer.
He knocked.
No answer.
He knocked again.
A faint sound came from inside.
Then the door opened an inch.
An elderly woman peered out.
“Dr. Vale?”” Reed asked.
Her gaze moved past him to me.
The moment she saw my face, she dropped the door handle.
“Oh, God,” she whispered.
“You know me?”” I asked.
She looked at Isabella.
Then at my mother.
Then she opened the door fully.
“Come inside. Quickly.””
The house smelled of lavender and old paper. Medical journals covered a side table, and framed photographs lined the hallway. Dr. Vale led us into a small study and locked the door.
“You shouldn't have come here,” she said.
“Someone tried to transfer twelve million dollars using my dead father's identity,” I replied.
“I think I deserve some answers.””
She closed her eyes.
“Daniel was right. They found the account.””
“Who are they?””
“The Hales. And someone else.””
I stepped closer.
“Who delivered me?””
Dr. Vale looked directly at me.
“I did.””
“And who was listed as my father?””
Her lips trembled.
Before she could answer, a vehicle screeched to a halt outside.
Detective Reed moved toward the window.
A black SUV had stopped at the curb.
The driver's door opened.
Marcus Hale stepped out.
He wasn't alone.
A second man emerged from the passenger side, carrying a leather case.
Dr. Vale went white.
“No,” she whispered.
“He found us.””
Marcus walked toward the front door, holding a document in one hand.
Then my phone rang.
His number appeared on the screen.
I answered.
“Don't let her tell you who your father was,” he said.
“Because if she does, you'll understand why your mother was never supposed to bring you home.””
I stared at Dr. Vale.
She began to cry.
And then, from the hallway behind us, a man's voice spoke.
“She's already told me enough.””
Everyone turned.
Arthur Bennett stood in the doorway, holding a second copy of the birth record.
May you like
His face was ashen.
“Nia,” he said, “your biological father is alive.””
