Chapter 3: My Sister's Signature
I drove home without turning on the radio.
The streets of Atlanta passed in a blur of headlights and traffic signals.
My mother's birthday party had been supposed to end with a toast, a birthday cake, and photographs.
Instead, I was sitting in my car at a red light, staring at a forged authorization letter bearing my name.
I owned a business.
I employed twenty-three people.
I had spent eight years building something that belonged to me.
And now my own family was apparently trying to use it as a shared bank account.
When I reached my condominium, I went straight to my home office.
I opened my laptop and downloaded every attachment Danielle had sent.
There were six documents.
The first was the restaurant's original contract.
The second was the supplemental event request.
The third was the authorization letter.
The fourth was a transportation invoice.
The fifth was a champagne order.
The sixth was a document titled Family Partnership Understanding.
I stared at the title.
Then I opened it.
The document claimed that I had agreed to transfer thirty percent of Carter Hospitality Solutions to Marcus and twenty percent to Claire.
My mother was listed as the family representative.
The date was six months earlier.
I read it again.
Then a third time.
I had never seen the document.
At the bottom, there were three signatures.
Mine.
Marcus's.
And Claire's.
My signature looked almost perfect.
Almost.
The capital N was slightly different, and the final stroke of my surname curved in the wrong direction.
Someone had copied it from an old business document.
I called my attorney, Rebecca Hayes.
She answered on the fourth ring.
"Nia? It's late. What's going on?""
"I need you to look at something.""
"Is someone hurt?""
"No. But I think my family has forged my signature.""
There was a pause.
"Send me everything.""
I forwarded the documents.
Rebecca called back twelve minutes later.
"Where did you get these?""
"The restaurant. My sister submitted an authorization letter using my company information.""
"Have you ever signed a power of attorney giving Claire authority over your business?""
"No.""
"Have you ever agreed to transfer shares?""
"Absolutely not.""
"Have you signed anything similar?""
"No.""
Rebecca exhaled.
"Then don't contact your family about the documents yet.""
"Why?""
"Because I want to verify the notarization and establish exactly what was submitted. Don't accuse anyone until we know what we're dealing with.""
I rubbed my forehead.
"Rebecca, they're using my business.""
"I understand. But we need evidence.""
She paused.
"Can you come to my office tomorrow morning?""
"Yes.""
"Bring your original company records.""
I agreed.
Then I called Danielle.
"Can you tell me who submitted the additional authorization?""
"Your sister, Claire.""
"Did she present identification?""
"Yes.""
"Did she claim to be an authorized representative?""
"She presented the letter indicating that she had authority to act on behalf of your company.""
"Did she pay anything?""
"No. She requested that all charges be transferred to the corporate account.""
"Please preserve the security footage, the original documents, and all communication.""
"Certainly.""
"And Danielle?""
"Yes?""
"Please don't release any more services under my company's name.""
"Understood.""
I ended the call.
At 10:18 p.m., someone began pounding on my front door.
I checked the security camera.
Marcus.
He was standing in the hallway, still wearing his black suit.
I didn't open the door.
Instead, I spoke through the intercom.
"What do you want?""
"Open the door, Nia.""
"No.""
"Please. I need to talk to you.""
"Talk.""
He glanced toward the elevator.
"Not through the camera.""
"Then you should have thought about that before leaving me alone at the dinner table.""
He rubbed his face.
"Look, I know tonight went badly.""
"Badly?""
"Mom was upset.""
"Marcus, what did Claire tell you about the partnership agreement?""
His expression changed.
"What partnership agreement?""
I almost laughed.
"Don't insult me.""
He looked down.
"Nia, we need to discuss this calmly.""
"Did you sign a document giving yourself twenty percent of my company?""
He didn't answer.
That was enough.
"Marcus?""
He stepped closer to the camera.
"Claire said it was something you had already agreed to.""
"Did you ask me?""
"She said you wanted to surprise Mom.""
"With twenty percent of my company?""
He looked uncomfortable.
"She said you wanted us all to be involved.""
I felt a cold pressure spreading through my chest.
"How much did you know?""
"Not everything.""
"Did you know about the restaurant's additional charges?""
He hesitated.
"Mom told me you were covering them.""
"I wasn't.""
"I know that now.""
I laughed bitterly.
"How convenient.""
He put both hands in his pockets.
"Nia, we're family. You can't treat us like strangers.""
"Family doesn't forge signatures.""
His face changed.
"Nobody forged anything.""
"Then why does the document have my signature?""
He stared at the floor.
Finally, he said, "Claire handled the paperwork.""
I waited.
"Did you sign it?""
"Yes.""
The hallway seemed to go silent.
"You signed it without asking me?""
"She said it was an agreement about future involvement.""
"An agreement involving my company.""
"She told me you approved it.""
"Did you read it?""
He looked away.
I closed my eyes.
"Go home, Marcus.""
"Nia—"
"Go home.""
He stepped back.
Then he said something that made me stop.
"Mom says you have no right to keep everything to yourself.""
I stared at the camera.
"Everything?""
"She raised us. She thinks you owe the family.""
I didn't answer.
Marcus shook his head.
"You're making this bigger than it needs to be.""
Then he walked toward the elevator.
I watched until the doors closed.
For several minutes, I stood in the dark hallway.
Then I returned to my office and opened the partnership agreement again.
There was something strange about the notarization.
The notary's name was Daniel Price.
I recognized it.
He was a man my mother had introduced me to years earlier at a family barbecue.
He worked at a small accounting and document service office in Decatur.
I searched my email for his name.
Nothing.
Then I searched my company's archived files.
A folder appeared.
Business Registration — Original Documents.
Inside was a scan of my first corporate registration.
My signature was clearly visible.
I compared it to the forged document.
The similarity was obvious.
Someone had taken the signature from that registration and placed it onto the new agreement.
I called Rebecca again.
"I found the original source of my signature.""
"Good. Preserve it.""
"Can you investigate the notary?""
"Tomorrow.""
I looked at the clock.
11:46 p.m.
Then my phone vibrated.
A message from an unknown number.
You should stop digging. Your mother is only trying to protect the family.
I stared at the screen.
Another message appeared.
You don't want everyone finding out what really happened to your father's money.
My hands went numb.
My father had died eleven years earlier.
His estate had been settled.
Or at least, that was what I had always been told.
I called the number.
It went straight to voicemail.
I called again.
Nothing.
Then I opened the family group chat.
My mother had sent a photograph.
It showed the four of us at the birthday dinner.
Evelyn stood in the center.
Claire was beside her.
Marcus was smiling.
I was nowhere in the picture.
Beneath it, my mother had written:
Some people forget where they came from. Money changes everything.
Claire added a laughing emoji.
Then Marcus wrote:
Let's not fight. We're still family.
I stared at the photograph.
Then another message arrived privately from Aunt Patricia.
Nia, I need to tell you something about your father's estate. Your mother told us not to discuss it with you.
I immediately called her.
She answered in a whisper.
"Sweetheart, are you alone?""
"Yes. What's happening?""
Patricia took a shaky breath.
"I don't know how to say this.""
"Just tell me.""
"Your father left something for you.""
I gripped the phone.
"What?""
"A trust.""
I sat down.
"What trust?""
"Your mother said it had been used to support the family. But I don't think she ever told you how much was in it.""
My heart began pounding.
"How much?""
Patricia was silent for several seconds.
May you like
Then she gave me a number.
And suddenly, the forged partnership agreement wasn't the only thing I needed to investigate.
