“It is.”
“I would have known.”
“You should have.”
The room seemed to tilt.
Priya pointed to a line near the bottom.
“The trust was intended to transfer into your sole control when you turned thirty-five. That happened last year.”
“I never received notice.”
“Someone did.”
She placed another page beside the first.
It was an acknowledgment of receipt.
My signature was at the bottom.
Except it was not my signature.
It was a careful imitation, elegant enough to pass at a glance, but the final loop in Andrews curved in the wrong direction.
I knew because Garrett always made that mistake.
For years, he had practiced my signature for convenience. Holiday cards. Delivery forms. Minor company papers. Whenever I objected, he smiled and called it one of the benefits of marriage.
“He forged it,” I whispered.
“Possibly.”
“Possibly?”
“Charlotte, the acknowledgment was scanned and submitted through Andrews Development’s internal legal system.”
