Chapter 6 - My Signature
I stared at the forged signature for nearly a minute.
It wasn't close.
It was exact.
The loop in the E.
The angled H.
Even the small break in the final stroke.
Someone had copied it from a real document.
My lawyer, Rachel Kim, asked one question.
“Who had access to your digital signature?”
“My employer.”
“Family?”
“I've signed wedding contracts electronically.”
“There you go.”
The guarantee was for $600,000.
North Row had already drawn $350,000.
If the company defaulted, Crestline could potentially come after the guarantors.
Including me.
Fraudulently.
But proving forgery would take time.
I froze my credit.
Filed a fraud report.
Sent written notice to Crestline.
Then I called Dad.
He answered quietly.
“You know.”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“You signed the guarantee?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know mine was forged?”
“No.”
I wanted to believe him.
“Did Julian tell you I signed?”
“Yes.”
“And you didn't ask me?”
“I thought you were helping.”
“Why would I secretly guarantee six hundred thousand dollars and then complain about wedding expenses?”
Dad said nothing.
“Did you read it?”
“No.”
“You signed a six-hundred-thousand-dollar guarantee without reading it.”
“He needed the financing.”
“Why?”
Dad's voice cracked.
“Because North Row was about to default.”
“On what?”
“Everything.”
There it was.
“How long have you known?”
“Three months.”
“And you still let me pay for the wedding.”
“We needed time.”
“To get Robert Cole's money.”
Silence.
I stood.
“Say it.”
“Evan.”
“You needed Julian to marry Madison so Robert would invest.”
“It wasn't like that.”
“Then tell me what it was like.”
Dad's composure broke.
“If Robert invested, North Row could refinance. Julian could repay us. Repay you. Clear the private loans. Everybody walks away.”
“Except Robert.”
“He would own equity.”
“In what?”
Dad couldn't answer.
“There are no assets.”
“There are opportunities.”
“Dad.”
“There were supposed to be.”
I finally understood the entire wedding.
The estate.
The flowers.
The band.
The designer suits.
None of it was merely Julian's fantasy.
The wedding was credibility theater.
Robert Cole needed to believe his future son-in-law came from stability.
Money.
Family backing.
Success.
My parents had helped build the illusion because they were financially trapped inside Julian's failure.
And I had financed the set.
“Dad.”
“What?”
“Did you like Julian's text because you wanted me gone?”
Silence.
My throat tightened.
“You did.”
“He was angry.”
“No.”
“Evan.”
“You needed me away from Robert.”
Dad exhaled.
“You ask too many questions.”
I laughed.
It sounded terrible.
“So yes.”
“We thought one evening.”
“You publicly approved my brother calling me a loser because my presence could expose your lie.”
“I was trying to protect your mother.”
“And Julian.”
“Yes.”
“Carla? Aunt Kelly? Everybody except me?”
“Don't do this.”
“I'm done doing anything.”
Dad's voice hardened.
“You cannot report North Row.”
“I already reported the forged guarantee.”
“What?”
“You forged my signature on a six-hundred-thousand-dollar obligation.”
“Julian did.”
“And you benefited.”
“Evan, listen to me.”
“No.”
“If Crestline accelerates the loan, your parents lose their house.”
I closed my eyes.
There was the lever.
Guilt.
Always guilt.
“Then Dad.”
“Yes?”
“You should hire a lawyer.”
I hung up.
An hour later, Madison called.
Her voice was shaking.
“The wedding is postponed.”
Not canceled.
Postponed.
“For how long?”
“I don't know.”
“Are you safe?”
“Yes.”
“Julian?”
“At my parents' house.”
“You're still with him?”
“I don't know.”
Fair answer.
Then she said:
“My father found something.”
“What?”
“North Row tried to open a credit facility using a letter that says I am already Julian's wife.”
My stomach tightened.
“But you're not.”
“I know.”
The letter described Madison as Julian Hale's spouse and referenced anticipated marital assets.
“Evan.”
“Yes?”
“My father thinks Julian wasn't planning to wait until after the wedding to use my family.”
I looked at the forged guarantee carrying my name.
“No.”
May you like
I said quietly.
“I don't think he was planning to wait for anything.”
