Chapter 8 - THE ACCOUNT I NEVER OPENED
The bank account had my name.
My Social Security number.
My old address.
And a checking history stretching back two years.
I had never opened it.
Nathan showed me the documents the next morning.
“They created an account using your identity.”
I stared at the screen.
“Who?”
“We don’t know yet.”
I laughed bitterly.
“I think we have candidates.”
Money flowed into the account every month.
Then loan payments flowed out.
Nathan pointed at the deposits.
“Recognize these?”
I leaned closer.
Small transfers.
Two hundred.
Five hundred.
Sometimes more.
The sending account belonged to my parents.
But several larger deposits came from somewhere else.
A business called KB Lifestyle Consulting.
“Karla.”
Nathan nodded.
“Probably.”
I sat back.
“So they knew.”
“All of them may have known.”
I thought about every Christmas dinner.
Every birthday.
Every time Karla mocked my freelance work.
Every time Mom complained about grocery money.
They had been using an account in my name.
Sophia sat on the floor of Nathan’s office playing with blocks.
I looked at her.
That was the part that kept me from collapsing.
I didn’t have the luxury of falling apart.
Nathan said, “We freeze the account. Notify the bank’s fraud department. Then law enforcement decides what they want to do with the identity issue.”
“What happens to the apartment loan?”
“It may be challenged, but this is going to get messy.”
“Messy is fine.”
He studied me.
“You sure?”
“No.”
That answer made him smile.
“Good. People who say they’re sure in situations like this usually haven’t thought enough.”
That afternoon, the bank froze the account.
Karla called me within an hour.
“You froze it?”
I didn’t answer.
“Laura!”
“Yes.”
“You’re insane.”
“Why are you worried about an account in my name?”
She inhaled sharply.
“You’re going to get everyone arrested.”
“Interesting choice of words.”
“We were paying it!”
“You stole my identity and your defense is that you paid the bills?”
“I didn’t open the account.”
“Who did?”
She paused.
“Mom.”
There it was.
“And you knew?”
“I found out later.”
“You kept depositing money into it.”
“Because Dad said if the loan defaulted, you’d lose the apartment.”
I laughed.
“The apartment you all kept calling Mom’s?”
“Stop twisting everything.”
“I don’t have to twist anything, Karla. You people did it for me.”
Her voice cracked.
“You don’t know what Mom is like when she’s desperate.”
I stopped.
That was the first honest thing Karla had said.
“No,” I said quietly. “I do.”
She began crying.
“For once in your life, Laura, don’t be the strong one.”
“What does that mean?”
“Drop it.”
“No.”
“She’ll destroy all of us.”
“She already tried.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Then explain.”
Karla whispered, “Mom has another document.”
My stomach tightened.
“What document?”
“One that says you gave her permission.”
“I never gave her permission.”
“I know.”
“Then what is it?”
Karla started breathing faster.
“I don’t know exactly.”
“Karla.”
“I saw it once.”
“What did it say?”
Before she could answer, someone in the background shouted her name.
Mom.
Karla whispered, “I have to go.”
“No. Tell me.”
“She knows I called you.”
The line went dead.
Twenty minutes later, Karla texted me three words.
May you like
She found everything.
Then her phone went offline.
