Chapter 2: The Seventeen Transactions
My father's study had always been the one room in the house where nobody was allowed to disturb him.
It had dark wooden shelves, leather furniture, and a large desk overlooking the front garden.
That afternoon, I sat opposite him with my hands clasped together.
He placed his phone on the desk.
"Look at these, Nia.""
I leaned forward.
There were seventeen transactions listed on the screen.
Designer clothing.
Jewelry.
A luxury hotel.
A private shopping appointment.
Two airline tickets.
And a handbag purchase worth twenty thousand dollars.
I recognized several stores.
They were places Madison had posted about on social media.
My stomach turned.
"Dad, why is my name connected to these purchases?""
Richard leaned back in his chair.
"That's what I'm trying to understand.""
"Did you authorize them?""
"No.""
"Did you give Madison access to your card?""
He rubbed his forehead.
"She had access to a supplementary card for emergencies. It was never supposed to be used for personal shopping.""
I stared at him.
"Then why does the bank say the purchases were authorized?""
He looked uncomfortable.
"Because the card was linked to the family account.""
I shook my head.
"That doesn't answer my question.""
He looked at me carefully.
"You're right.""
For a moment, neither of us spoke.
Then he opened another document.
"This is what concerns me most.""
The screen showed a transfer from an account established in my mother's name.
My mother, Elaine, had worked as a financial administrator before she became ill.
She had been careful with money.
Even during her final months, she made arrangements for my future.
She left behind a trust intended to help pay for my education, housing, and other important expenses.
My father had explained it to me when I turned eighteen.
He told me the account was protected.
I had never thought to question him.
"That's my mother's account," I whispered.
Richard nodded.
"Yes.""
"How much was transferred?""
He hesitated.
"Forty-eight thousand dollars.""
I felt the air leave my lungs.
"What?""
"Forty-eight thousand.""
"Where did it go?""
He looked down at the document.
"An account ending in 7712.""
I didn't recognize the number.
But he did.
I saw it in his expression.
"Dad?""
He closed the document.
"I need to verify something before I tell you.""
"Why?""
"Because I don't want to accuse anyone without evidence.""
I stood up.
"Someone took my mother's money.""
"Nia, sit down.""
"No, Dad. You don't understand.""
My voice cracked.
"She saved that money for me. She worked for it. She planned for me. And somebody thought they could just take it?""
Richard stood too.
"I understand.""
"Then why are we sitting here?""
He looked at me with an expression I hadn't seen before.
Guilt.
"Because I should have protected it better.""
I sat down again.
He reached across the desk.
"I am going to find out exactly what happened.""
I wanted to believe him.
But the sound of my gown burning was still in my ears.
That evening, Vanessa came into the kitchen while I was making tea.
She was wearing a cream-colored cardigan and holding a glass of sparkling water.
She placed the glass on the counter.
"Your father tells me you've been looking through financial records.""
I continued stirring my tea.
"He showed me the transactions.""
Vanessa laughed softly.
"Well, I hope you understand that family finances can be complicated.""
I turned around.
"Why was my mother's inheritance used?""
Her expression changed.
"That's a very serious accusation.""
"It's a question.""
"Your father manages the household finances.""
"Then why is Madison's name connected to the purchases?""
Vanessa folded her arms.
"Madison has been under a lot of pressure.""
I stared at her.
"Pressure to buy designer handbags?""
"Don't be sarcastic.""
"Then don't make excuses.""
Her jaw tightened.
"Your father has always treated you differently because he feels guilty about your mother.""
I put my spoon down.
"Leave my mother out of this.""
Vanessa stepped closer.
"You have no idea how much this family has done for you.""
I laughed once.
Not because anything was funny.
Because I couldn't believe she was saying this while standing in the kitchen of a house my father had paid for.
"What exactly have you done for me, Vanessa?""
She blinked.
"I welcomed you into my family.""
"You moved me into the smallest bedroom.""
"Because Madison needed more space.""
"You gave her a car.""
"She needed transportation.""
"You let her wear my dress.""
"It was only a dress.""
"You watched her burn it.""
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"Your father made that decision.""
"No. I watched you stand there while it happened.""
She picked up her glass.
"You're becoming very disrespectful.""
I looked directly at her.
"And you're becoming very careless.""
She stared at me for several seconds before walking out.
I thought the conversation was over.
It wasn't.
Twenty minutes later, Madison appeared in the doorway.
Her eyes were red, but her expression was angry.
"Happy now?""
I looked up from my phone.
"What?""
"Mom's crying because of you.""
I put my phone down.
"Madison, I didn't take forty-eight thousand dollars.""
She rolled her eyes.
"You act like you're the only person who has ever had problems.""
"Then explain the transactions.""
She walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator.
"I don't have to explain anything to you.""
"You're right. You have to explain it to Dad.""
She slammed the refrigerator door.
"You're obsessed with making me look bad.""
I stood up.
"Did you use my mother's inheritance?""
Madison looked away.
That was enough.
"Madison.""
"What?""
"Did you?""
She grabbed a bottle of water.
"Mom said the money was available.""
"Available for what?""
"Things we needed.""
I stared at her.
"What things?""
She shrugged.
"Clothes. Travel. Other stuff.""
"Those aren't things we needed.""
She laughed bitterly.
"Easy for you to say. You never have to worry about money.""
I looked at her.
"I worked six months for that dress.""
"Nobody forced you to.""
"And you used money that wasn't yours.""
Her face turned red.
"You think you're better than me because you work at some little boutique?""
"No.""
"Then stop acting like it!""
She stormed out.
I remained in the kitchen, listening to her footsteps disappear upstairs.
Later that night, my father asked me to meet him in the study again.
This time, he had printed bank statements.
He placed them in front of me.
"I spoke with the bank," he said.
"And?""
"Your mother established a separate trust. I was appointed as trustee.""
I looked at him.
"Okay.""
"Vanessa was never authorized to withdraw money from it.""
My hands began to tremble.
"Then how did the money leave?""
Richard pointed to a signature at the bottom of the document.
"Someone submitted a transfer request using my authorization details.""
I frowned.
"But you didn't sign it?""
"No.""
He turned the paper toward me.
"Look closely.""
I leaned forward.
The signature looked almost exactly like my father's.
But something was wrong.
I remembered my mother teaching me to recognize his handwriting when I was little.
Dad always wrote the letter R with a distinctive loop.
This signature didn't have it.
"That's not your handwriting.""
Richard shook his head.
"No.""
"Then someone copied it.""
He nodded.
I looked at the date.
The transfer had been made four months earlier.
Four months.
While I was working late shifts.
While I was saving every dollar.
While Madison was posting photographs from expensive restaurants.
I looked up.
"Who had access to your financial documents?""
Richard didn't answer immediately.
Then he opened a drawer and removed a small folder.
"Three people had access to the family office.""
"Who?""
"Me. My accountant. And Vanessa.""
I stared at him.
He continued.
"But there's something else.""
He opened the folder.
Inside was a printed email.
The sender's address belonged to an account associated with Vanessa.
The subject line read:
*Nia's Trust — Temporary Allocation.*
My father tapped the email.
"She requested a transfer.""
I swallowed.
"What did she say?""
Richard read the message aloud.
"Richard, I think it would be better if we temporarily use part of Elaine's funds to support Madison. Nia has enough opportunities ahead of her, and Madison needs financial stability now.""
I felt sick.
"She called my mother's money an opportunity for Madison?""
Richard's expression darkened.
"Apparently.""
I pushed the papers away.
"Why didn't you tell me earlier?""
He lowered his eyes.
"Because I trusted my wife.""
The words hung between us.
Then he added quietly:
"And because I was afraid of what I might discover.""
Before I could answer, his phone rang.
The screen displayed the name of his accountant, Mr. Collins.
He answered immediately.
"Hello, James.""
A moment later, his expression changed.
"You're certain?""
Silence.
"Send me the original file.""
Another pause.
"Now.""
He ended the call and looked at me.
"What happened?"" I asked.
He turned his laptop toward me.
"The transfer wasn't the only thing they investigated.""
A new document had arrived.
It contained a photograph of a signed authorization form.
But this time, the signature wasn't my father's.
It was mine.
My name.
My date of birth.
And a signature that looked disturbingly similar to the one on my university enrollment documents.
I stared at the page.
"I never signed that.""
My father stood abruptly.
"I know.""
He enlarged the document.
Then he pointed to the witness section.
I read the name.
Vanessa Carter.
But beneath her name was another signature.
Madison's.
And suddenly, I understood that this wasn't just about stolen money.
Someone had been preparing documents to make it look as though I had authorized everything myself.
My father reached for his phone.
"James, don't close that account yet.""
He paused.
Then his voice dropped.
"There's another person involved.""
I looked at him.
"Who?""
He turned the laptop around.
The account receiving the money belonged to a company registered under a name I had never heard before.
But its registered director was someone I recognized.
Someone who had attended our family dinners.
Someone who had smiled at me while asking about university.
Someone who had even helped me carry the packages containing my blue dress.
My father's expression was cold.
"The money didn't go to Madison directly.""
He zoomed in on the company details.
"It went to someone Vanessa has been secretly paying for months.""
And when I saw the director's name, I stopped breathing.
May you like
It was my father's younger brother.
Uncle Daniel.
