Chapter 4: The Forged Signature
I read the document three times.
My name appeared beneath the statement.
The signature looked almost identical to mine.
Almost.
But there was one detail Gloria had missed.
Whenever I signed my full name, I always connected the final letter of Johnson to the underline beneath it.
Grandma had taught me that when I was thirteen.
This signature didn't have the connecting line.
Someone had copied my name.
My stomach twisted.
I immediately photographed the document and sent it to Camille.
Then I called my mother.
She answered immediately.
"What now, Aaliyah?""
"Did you forge my signature?""
Silence.
Then Gloria sighed.
"Lower your voice.""
"Did you?""
"Your sister needed protection.""
"From what? The truth?""
"Don't be ridiculous.""
I looked around to make sure nobody was listening.
"Mom, you submitted a document claiming I gave Tessa ownership of my cake.""
"You told us you weren't going to compete.""
"I never said that.""
"Well, you were acting like you had no intention of going.""
"So you forged my signature?""
Gloria's voice dropped.
"Listen carefully. You need to stop this before you ruin everything.""
I laughed once.
"You're worried about me ruining everything?""
"Your sister has an opportunity. She has people interested in her. She has a future.""
"And what about mine?""
"You're young. You'll have other opportunities.""
"Mom, you stole my cake, lied about me, and forged my signature.""
"Nobody is stealing anything. Tessa is your sister.""
I closed my eyes.
"That doesn't make her the owner of my work.""
Gloria became angry.
"You've always been difficult. Your grandmother spoiled you. She made you believe you were special.""
My throat tightened.
"Grandma believed I could do something with my life.""
"Your grandmother had strange ideas.""
I stared at the document.
For the first time, I understood that my mother wasn't simply favoring Tessa.
She was actively trying to erase me.
"Don't contact me again until you're ready to apologize," Gloria said.
Then she hung up.
I stood still.
A moment later, Camille approached.
"What's wrong?""
I handed her my phone.
She read the document carefully.
Her expression changed.
"Where did this come from?""
"Someone sent it anonymously.""
Camille looked at the signature.
"Did you authorize this?""
"No.""
"Then we'll need to document the complaint.""
She took me to a small office behind the judging area.
A legal representative for the championship, Mr. Howard, joined us.
He examined the document and asked several questions.
"Have you ever signed anything transferring ownership of your cake design?""
"No.""
"Did you give your sister permission to enter your cake?""
"No.""
"Do you have evidence showing you created it?""
I opened my camera roll.
I showed him photographs from the first day.
The cake layers.
The chocolate roses.
The hand-painted decorations.
I showed him videos of myself assembling the tiers.
Then I opened a recording from the previous night.
In it, my mother was reaching for the cake stand.
Tessa's voice was clearly audible.
"Let's get it into the car before the frosting gets warm.""
Mr. Howard watched the video twice.
"This is useful.""
Camille nodded.
"Very useful.""
He placed the phone on the desk.
"Miss Johnson, we're not going to make any decisions without giving both contestants an opportunity to respond. However, your complaint will be formally recorded.""
I nodded.
"Thank you.""
As we returned to the hall, I noticed Tessa standing beside a television reporter.
She was laughing.
Her hand rested proudly on the five-tier cake.
The reporter asked, "What's the most important lesson you've learned while preparing for this competition?""
Tessa smiled.
"That you should never let anyone steal your dreams.""
I stopped walking.
Camille followed my gaze.
"Unbelievable," she muttered.
Then Tessa noticed us.
Her smile faltered.
She excused herself from the reporter and hurried over.
"What did you tell them?""
I looked at her.
"The truth.""
Her face turned red.
"You had no right.""
I almost couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"No right?""
"Mom said you weren't going to complain.""
"Mom doesn't decide what I do.""
Tessa leaned closer.
"You're going to make me look like a criminal.""
"You signed a document claiming you created something you didn't make.""
"I didn't sign anything!""
I looked at her carefully.
"Then who did?""
She glanced toward Gloria.
My mother was standing near the entrance, talking to a man in a black suit.
She saw us and immediately approached.
"Tessa, come here.""
Tessa stepped beside her.
Gloria looked at me.
"Whatever you're doing, stop.""
I held up my phone.
"Did you forge my signature?""
She didn't answer.
Instead, she turned to Camille.
"This is a family misunderstanding.""
Camille's voice was firm.
"Mrs. Johnson, a forged signature on a legal document is not a family misunderstanding.""
Gloria's cheeks reddened.
"You don't know the whole story.""
"Then explain it.""
My mother looked around.
Several people had started watching.
She lowered her voice.
"Tessa has been struggling. She needs this chance.""
I shook my head.
"Then she should have worked for it.""
Gloria grabbed my elbow.
"Do you want your sister to fail? Is that what you want?""
I pulled away.
"I want her to stop taking things that belong to me.""
Tessa suddenly began crying.
Not quietly.
Loudly enough for the nearby reporters to turn.
"Why are you doing this to me?"" she sobbed.
"I thought we were sisters!""
People stared.
Gloria immediately wrapped an arm around her.
"You're okay, sweetheart.""
Then she looked at me.
"Look what you've done.""
For years, that sentence would have destroyed me.
Today, it barely touched me.
I stepped toward Tessa.
"You want to know what I've done?""
She looked up.
"I spent three nights making that cake. I spent three years learning how to bake. I saved money from a job you once told me was beneath me. I missed parties, birthdays, and weekends because I wanted to build something.""
My voice shook.
"And you took it because you didn't want to do the work.""
Tessa wiped her eyes.
"I didn't know it would matter this much.""
"Then you shouldn't have taken it.""
The loudspeaker interrupted us.
"Contestants, please proceed to the stage. The preliminary judging will begin shortly.""
Camille touched my shoulder.
"Come on, Aaliyah.""
I turned toward my station.
But before I could walk away, Gloria said something that stopped me.
"Your grandmother would be ashamed of you.""
I slowly looked back.
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I answered.
"No, Mom. Grandma would be ashamed of what you did.""
My mother went pale.
I walked away.
The first round began with a technical presentation.
Each contestant had three minutes to introduce their creation.
Tessa went first.
She stepped onto the small stage with practiced confidence.
"Good morning. My name is Tessa Johnson, and my cake is called The Golden Promise.""
The audience applauded.
She described the five tiers, the chocolate flowers, and the delicate sugar work.
She even claimed the design was inspired by her childhood memories of baking with her grandmother.
I gripped the edge of my station.
Because I knew exactly where that story came from.
It was mine.
When the judges approached, one of them pointed to the chocolate roses.
"How did you achieve the delicate texture?""
Tessa smiled.
"Years of practice.""
The judge nodded.
"And who taught you?""
Tessa hesitated.
"My grandmother.""
Camille, seated at the judges' table, raised her hand.
"Which grandmother?""
Tessa blinked.
"Eleanor.""
Camille slowly opened a folder.
"Interesting. I worked with Eleanor Johnson for many years.""
Tessa's smile tightened.
"Really?""
"Yes. She was a wonderful baker.""
Camille looked down at her notes.
"Tell me, Tessa. What was Eleanor's signature chocolate tempering technique?""
Tessa stared.
"I... I'm not sure.""
Camille nodded.
"Then perhaps you can tell us what she called the little white chocolate petals she used in her original garden design.""
Tessa's lips parted.
Nothing came out.
The room became quiet.
Camille closed the folder.
"Thank you, Tessa.""
Then she looked toward my station.
"Next, we have Aaliyah Johnson.""
I picked up my cake.
My hands were steady now.
May you like
I walked onto the stage.
And placed Grandma's chocolate garden in the center of the table.
