Chapter 4: The Signature at the Bottom
Celeste spun toward her daughter.
“Be quiet, Madison.”
Madison’s mouth tightened.
“You said it was temporary.”
“What was temporary?” Dad asked.
Celeste took his phone and set it facedown.
“This conversation is finished until everyone calms down.”
Dad picked it up again.
“Sixty-two thousand dollars is missing.”
My throat closed.
“Sixty-two thousand?”
“That fund came from your mother’s life insurance,” Dad said.
“It was supposed to cover housing, books, and anything scholarships didn’t.”
Celeste opened a drawer and removed a folder.
“You approved the transfer, Daniel.”
She slid a document across the bed.
Dad looked at the signature at the bottom.
“That is my name.”
“Exactly,” Celeste said.
“You signed it.”
“I signed insurance forms at your office.
I never approved this.”
“You signed without reading them?”
His eyes dropped.
I looked at him.
“Dad?”
Celeste’s smile returned.
“Tell her.
You were too busy to read what your wife placed in front of you.”
Dad gripped the paper.
“Emma, I thought they were renewal forms.”
“You promised Mom you would protect that money.”
“I know.”
“You told me not to worry about college.”
“I know.”
Celeste tapped the signature.
“There.
The money was legally transferred into our joint investment account.
Daniel agreed to it, whether he remembers or not.”
Dad stepped toward her.
“Where did it go?”
“Into this family.”
Madison glanced at her designer bag.
I saw the glance.
“You bought that bag with my mother’s money?”
“It was my birthday,” Madison said quietly.
“You shredded my gown while carrying something bought with my college fund.”
“I didn’t know where the money came from.”
“Liar,” Celeste snapped.
“You knew enough to enjoy it.”
Madison’s face changed.
“You told me Dad wanted us to have it.”
“I said no such thing.”
“Yes, you did.”
Celeste reached for the folder.
Dad held it away.
“You forged the transfer details,” he said.
“This document lists Emma as an approving beneficiary.”
Celeste shrugged.
“She signed it.”
“I didn’t,” I said.
My name appeared above a signature that looked almost like mine.
Almost.
Dad showed it to me.
“Is that your writing?”
“No.”
Celeste stepped closer.
“Think carefully, Emma.
You sign papers constantly at school.”
“I never signed this.”
“Then prove it.”
The room blurred.
Dad reached for me, but I pulled back.
“You should have read the papers,” I told him.
“I should have.”
“You should have noticed my email stopped working.”
“I should have.”
“You should have believed me when I said money was disappearing.”
Dad’s voice broke.
“I should have protected you, and I failed.”
Those words nearly folded me in half.
I pressed my fist to my mouth.
A knock sounded downstairs.
“Emma?” a woman called.
“It’s Mrs.
Alvarez.”
My school counselor stood at the front door holding a garment bag.
Behind her was Mr.
Patel, our next-door neighbor.
Mrs.
Alvarez looked at the torn fabric in my hands.
“I suspected you might need this,” she said.
“The school keeps an extra graduation gown.”
I touched the garment bag.
“You came all this way?”
“You earned the right to walk across that stage.”
Mr.
Patel raised his phone.
“And you may need something else.”
Celeste appeared at the top of the stairs.
“What are you doing in my house?”
Mr.
Patel looked up at her.
“Your doorbell camera connects to my security network.
Daniel asked me to fix it last month.”
“So?”
“It recorded someone taking Emma’s letters from the mailbox.”
Celeste descended slowly.
“Delete it.”
Mr.
Patel put the phone in his pocket.
“No.”
Madison sat down on the stairs and covered her face.
Mrs.
Alvarez turned to her.
“Madison, is there something you want to say?”
Madison looked at her mother, then at me.
May you like
“The camera isn’t the worst evidence,” she whispered.
“I recorded Mom the night she made me destroy the gown.”
