Chapter 1 - The Paperwork of Lies
"You told me I lost my scholarship," I said, my voice cracking as six years of forced humility dissolved into a burning, white-hot fury. I stepped past Dr. Carr, holding Zoe tighter as my eyes locked onto my father's face. "When I got pregnant with Zoe... you told me Future Scholars revoked my admission. You said they didn't want a teenage mother representing their foundation."
My father swallowed hard. The vein in his forehead bulged, but his hands were trembling as he gripped the edge of the front door. "Clara, you don't understand how things work—"
"Oh, she understands perfectly now," Dr. Carr interrupted, pulling a thick leather binder from her briefcase and flipping it open right in the middle of the foyer. "When Clara went silent six years ago, we assumed she had chosen to step away from the program due to the stress of her pregnancy. Her official withdrawal papers were filed with her forged signature—and your primary signature as trustee."
"I signed nothing!" I yelled, tears finally spilling over my eyelashes, hot against my freezing cheeks. Zoe stirred in my arms, rubbing her eyes, her little hand reaching up to touch my chin.
"Shh, baby, it's okay," I whispered to her automatically, forcing my voice to soften for a fraction of a second before glaring back at the three people who claimed to be my family.
"For six years," Dr. Carr continued, her finger tracing a line on a official state document, "the Foundation continued to pay out thirty-two thousand dollars annually into an escrow account set up for Clara’s educational and childcare expenses. An account that was accessed monthly from an IP address registered to this house."
Savannah let out a quiet squeak and covered her mouth.
I looked at Savannah. The expensive designer clothes. The brand-new car sitting in the driveway. The endless trips abroad she took while I stayed home, cooking their meals, scrubbing their floors, and enduring their endless lectures about how I was a "drain on the family resources."
"Her college," I breathed, the pieces falling into place with sickening clarity. "Savannah’s tuition at Northwestern. Her apartment in the city. Her car."
My mother finally broke her silence, rushing forward with her hands clasped together in a desperate, pathetic gesture. "Clara, please! Listen to your father! Savannah had a real future! She had high SAT scores! You... you had a baby at seventeen! Your life was already ruined! We couldn't let all that money go to waste when your sister actually had a chance!"
" ruined?" I screamed, the word echoing off the high ceilings of the house I had scrubbed on my hands and knees just yesterday. "You told me I was a mistake! You made me feel like every piece of bread Zoe ate was a burden on you! You made me apologize for existing!"
"We gave you a roof over your head!" my father roared, attempting to regain control, stepping toward me with his finger pointed at my nose. "You brought shame on this house! You think some fancy foundation lady is going to save you now? You signed those papers, Clara! Try proving in court that you didn't!"
Dr. Carr smiled. It was the coldest, most terrifying smile I had ever seen on a human face.
"We don't need to prove it in court, Mr. Walker," Dr. Carr said, stepping smoothly between my father and me. "Because thirty minutes ago, when Clara crashed her vehicle on 4th Street, the police logged her statement. And ten minutes ago, my legal team verified that the handwriting on the annual re-certification affidavits belongs entirely to your wife."
Dr. Carr pulled a sleek, silver tablet from her bag and held it up. On the screen was a magnified image of my mother's signature on a water bill, side-by-side with my forged signature on the grant distribution forms. The cursive loops were identical down to the slant on the letter t.
"This is grand larceny, identity theft, and mail fraud involving federal grant funds," Dr. Carr said flatly. "The total amount stolen over six years stands at one hundred and ninety-two thousand dollars."
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My mother collapsed onto the bottom step of the staircase, weeping hysterically into her robe. Savannah looked at my father, her eyes wide with terror. "Dad... do something! Tell them she's lying!"
"She's not lying," I said, stepping right up to my father until I was looking him straight in his bloodshot eyes. "And I'm not that scared seventeen-year-old girl anymore."
