Chapter 3: The Signature That Wasn't His
On Monica's bed sat my laptop, an open envelope, and a thick folder bearing my father's full legal name.
Dad picked up the laptop first.
"Why is this here?""
Monica stood in the doorway.
"I was going to organize her things.""
"Her things?""
"She doesn't take care of her belongings.""
I stepped inside.
"That's my laptop.""
"I know, Jasmine.""
"Then why did you take it?""
Monica sighed.
"Because you leave everything lying around.""
Dad opened the laptop.
The screen lit up.
My scholarship account was still logged in.
I moved closer.
"That's where the email was.""
Dad looked at the screen.
"Can you show me the activity?""
I nodded and typed my password.
The browser history revealed several visits to the scholarship portal.
One entry stood out.
*Application withdrawal confirmation.*
The date was Tuesday.
The exact day Olivia had borrowed my laptop.
Dad turned toward her.
"Would you like to explain this?""
Olivia shook her head.
"I don't know anything about it.""
I clicked the activity record.
A withdrawal request had been submitted using my account.
The confirmation page was still saved in the browser cache.
My stomach tightened.
"She did it.""
Olivia's face twisted.
"You can't prove that!""
Dad looked at her.
"Who else had access to this computer?""
"Anyone!""
"Jasmine says you used it.""
"I was watching something!""
I looked at her.
"Then why did you open the scholarship portal?""
She said nothing.
Dad closed the laptop halfway.
"Olivia, this is serious.""
Monica stepped forward.
"Marcus, stop treating her like a criminal. She's a child.""
"So is Jasmine.""
"Jasmine is old enough to understand consequences.""
I stared at her.
"Then why isn't Olivia?""
Monica's expression turned cold.
"Because Olivia has been under enormous pressure. You have no idea how difficult things have been for her.""
I laughed bitterly.
"She has everything!""
"That's enough," Monica snapped.
Dad opened the folder on the bed.
The first page appeared to be a property document.
He read the heading.
Then his face changed.
"What is this?""
Monica's expression tightened.
"Nothing important.""
Dad turned the page.
It was a proposed transfer of ownership for the house.
His house.
The house he had bought years before marrying Monica.
The house where I had grown up.
And the document listed Olivia as the intended recipient.
I stepped closer.
"Dad?""
He didn't answer.
He was staring at the signature at the bottom.
His name.
Marcus Bennett.
The handwriting looked almost identical to his.
But Dad shook his head.
"I never signed this.""
Monica's mouth opened.
"Marcus, let me explain.""
He lifted the document.
"When was this prepared?""
"It was just paperwork.""
"Who prepared it?""
"An attorney.""
"Which attorney?""
Monica looked away.
Dad examined the second page.
There was a notary stamp, a witness section, and a proposed date for filing.
The transfer had not yet been registered, but the paperwork was prepared as though he had already approved it.
Dad's voice became frighteningly quiet.
"Why is my house being transferred to Olivia?""
Monica took a breath.
"We were trying to protect the family.""
"From what?""
"From future complications.""
"What complications?""
She looked at me.
"Jasmine is nearly eighteen. She'll eventually leave for college. She doesn't need this house.""
I felt something inside me collapse.
Dad looked at her.
"That doesn't explain why you forged my signature.""
"I did not forge anything!""
"Then who signed it?""
Monica didn't respond.
Olivia suddenly started crying.
"Mom, please stop.""
Dad turned toward her.
"Did you know about this?""
She shook her head.
But her mother immediately said, "Olivia has nothing to do with it.""
I stared at Monica.
"You said I was leaving temporarily.""
"Jasmine, don't interfere.""
"Was that the plan? Get me out, transfer the house, and let Olivia move into my room?""
Monica's face hardened.
"You have no idea how much I've sacrificed for this family.""
Dad placed the documents on the bed.
"Answer the question.""
Monica's voice rose.
"I have spent five years trying to make this household work! Five years of dealing with your daughter's attitude, her demands, her constant need for attention!""
"My demands?"" I whispered.
She turned toward me.
"Yes. You think everything belongs to you because your father feels guilty about your mother.""
Dad stepped forward.
"Do not bring her mother into this.""
But Monica wasn't finished.
"She gets the best room. She gets the best opportunities. She gets your attention every time she has a problem. Olivia has had to live in her shadow!""
Olivia wiped her tears.
"Mom, I just wanted one thing.""
Dad stared at her.
"One thing? You wanted her bedroom?""
Olivia looked down.
"I wanted a chance to have something that was mine.""
I couldn't believe it.
"You already have your own room. You have your own clothes, your own laptop, your own everything.""
"You get to leave for college!"" she shouted.
"You get to be somebody!""
I stared at her.
"That's what you're angry about?""
She began sobbing.
"You get everything!""
Dad looked at her for a long moment.
Then he asked the question that changed everything.
"Did you delete the scholarship email?""
Olivia covered her face.
No one moved.
"Olivia," Dad said.
"Look at me.""
She shook her head.
"I didn't mean to.""
My chest tightened.
"What?""
"I didn't mean for it to go this far.""
Dad's voice cracked.
"Did you delete it?""
Olivia finally nodded.
"Yes.""
I felt the room tilt.
"Why?""
She looked at me through her tears.
"Because you always get everything! The teachers love you. Dad is proud of you.
Everyone talks about how smart you are. And now you're going to get one hundred and fifty thousand dollars to go away to college!""
"That scholarship wasn't yours to take!""
"I know!""
Her scream echoed through the bedroom.
Then she said something that made Dad turn toward Monica.
"Mom told me it wouldn't matter if Jasmine missed the interview.""
I stopped breathing.
Dad slowly looked at his wife.
"What did she just say?""
Monica's face had gone pale.
Olivia wiped her cheeks.
"Mom said Jasmine was leaving anyway. She said the scholarship would only make things worse because Dad would never let her go if he knew how much money she could get.""
Dad stared at Monica.
"You knew about the scholarship?""
Monica said nothing.
"You knew Olivia deleted the email?""
Still nothing.
"And you decided to throw my daughter out instead of telling me?""
Monica finally spoke.
"I was trying to prevent a bigger problem.""
Dad shook his head.
"No. You were trying to make sure Jasmine couldn't compete with your daughter.""
I reached into my suitcase and pulled out a small black USB drive.
Dad noticed it.
"What's that?""
I held it tightly.
"Something I started collecting months ago.""
Monica's eyes narrowed.
"What have you done?""
"Every time something disappeared, I wrote it down. Every time you told me I was imagining things, I saved whatever proof I could find.""
I connected the USB drive to my laptop.
A folder appeared.
Inside were photographs of damaged schoolbooks, screenshots of deleted files, recordings of arguments, and pictures of my mother's belongings hidden inside Olivia's closet.
Dad stared at the screen.
"Jasmine, how long has this been happening?""
"A year.""
Monica stepped backward.
"You recorded private conversations?""
"Only conversations I was part of.""
Dad opened another folder.
It contained photographs of the property documents.
But there was something else.
A scanned email.
The subject line read:
*FINAL ARRANGEMENTS — PROPERTY TRANSFER AND JASMINE'S DEPARTURE.*
Dad clicked it.
The sender was Monica.
The recipient was someone named Daniel Price.
The date was nearly two months earlier.
Dad read the first few lines.
Then he looked up at his wife.
"Who is Daniel Price?""
Monica's lips parted.
She looked at the document again.
And for the first time, she seemed to understand that the suitcase in the living room had not been the biggest secret in the house.
Dad scrolled further.
There was an attachment.
A bank statement.
And beside it, a transaction that made his face turn completely white.
*$42,000 transferred from the family savings account.*
The recipient's name wasn't Olivia.
It wasn't Monica.
It was someone none of us expected.
Dad slowly turned toward his wife.
"Monica...""
May you like
His voice was barely audible.
"Who exactly have you been paying with my money?""
