Chapter 3 - Her Name at the Bottom
“That's not the account,” Lauren said.
Daniel sat across from her in the small consultation room. Through the open doorway, she could see the twins' nurse.
“Which account did you approve?”
“The charity's operating account. Dad's name was on the paperwork. Mine, too. I was a trustee.”
“This one belonged to a company called Northlight Services.”
“I never heard of it.”
“You will.”
She took the copy. Her signature was real. So was the date.
Her father had been dying. Cole had spread papers across the kitchen table and said they needed to move quickly to save the charity.
Daniel was stealing, he'd told her.
Daniel was using her father's illness to cover it up.
“You called me,” Lauren said.
“Three times.”
“I remember.”
“You hung up the third time.”
There was no anger in his voice. That made it worse.
“Cole said you would threaten us.”
“Did I?”
“No.”
A nurse stepped in. Both babies were being admitted for monitoring and treatment. Owen needed extra support, but he was responding.
Lauren thanked her twice. After the nurse left, she pressed her knuckles against her mouth.
“I should have brought them sooner.”
“You're here now.”
“That doesn't erase waiting.”
Daniel looked at her for a long moment.
“No,” he said. “It doesn't.”
For the first time all night, someone had told her the truth without using it to hurt her.
She looked down at the document.
“What do you need?”
“Your original copy. My lawyer needs to show how this page changed. The photocopy alone isn't enough.”
“Cole keeps everything in his study.”
“Did you keep anything yourself?”
Lauren remembered a blue recipe binder, her father's blocky handwriting, tax papers tucked behind Thanksgiving dishes because Cole never cooked.
“Maybe.”
Her phone rang again. This time she answered.
“Where are you?” Cole demanded.
“At the hospital. They're admitting the twins.”
“You took them out in freezing weather to punish me?”
“I took them for medical care.”
“Who is with you?”
Lauren stared at Daniel.
She said nothing.
Cole's voice dropped.
“Before you talk to anyone, remember whose signature is on those charity papers.”
The call ended.
Daniel hadn't heard every word.
He didn't need to.
May you like
Lauren turned the page over and saw the tiny printed footer.
The replacement page had been generated three days after she signed it.
