Chapter 10 - The Forged Signature
The forged document authorized Ethan to use my inherited assets as collateral for corporate debt.
If accepted as valid, it could freeze both my shares and North Star’s patents.
Rachel stared at the image.
“He planned this before the trust transfer.”
“How could a bank accept a fake signature?”
“It was notarized.”
The notary was my former assistant, Lauren Price.
Lauren had resigned two months earlier without explanation.
Daniel located her at her sister’s house.
At first, Lauren refused to speak to us.
Then Rachel showed her the arson report.
Lauren started crying.
“Ethan said it was temporary,” she whispered. “He said Claire had agreed but couldn’t sign because the trust hadn’t ended.”
“How much did he pay you?” I asked.
“Fifty thousand.”
“You sold my child’s future for fifty thousand dollars?”
Her face collapsed.
“He threatened me too. He had pictures of me taking prescription medication from the office clinic.”
Daniel leaned forward. “Did Ethan ask you to enter Robert Hayes’s house?”
Lauren stopped breathing for a second.
That was our answer.
She admitted delivering a package to my father three days before his death.
“What was inside?” I asked.
“A medication bottle.”
The room seemed to tilt.
“Who gave it to you?”
“Vanessa.”
Lauren agreed to make a formal statement.
Before we could leave, Rachel received an alert.
Someone had filed an emergency injunction freezing my voting rights based on the forged agreement.
A hearing was scheduled for nine the next morning.
Ethan had chosen Judge Malcolm Reed, a man known for favoring corporate executives.
“He only needs to delay us,” Rachel said. “If your shares are frozen, the board can’t suspend him.”
“And the debt?”
“Comes due Friday. Ethan’s group could take control.”
We had less than forty-eight hours.
That night, I stayed in the secure apartment with Daniel outside the door.
At 2:13 a.m., I woke to the smell of smoke.
I sat up, panicked.
There was no fire.
Then I felt warmth spreading beneath me.
My water had broken.
A contraction seized my body.
I reached for my phone.
The power went out.
The door opened.
A man stepped into the dark apartment.
“Don’t scream,” he said.
May you like
I recognized his voice.
It was Mr. Callahan.
