Chương 8
Maya wrote something down.
“That’s enough.”
“No, I want to know everything.”
She looked at me.
“Wanting to know and needing to absorb every insult are different things.”
I hated that she was right.
Connor said, “Evelyn didn’t accept his explanation.”
That helped less than I wanted it to.
“What did Mom say?”
“She mostly supported him.”
“Mostly?”
“She corrected him once.”
“About what?”
“He said you had been living with them for almost a year.”
“That’s wrong.”
“I know.”
“I moved back four months ago.”
“Your mother said four months.”
The correction should not have mattered.
It did.
Even while helping him lie, Mom had corrected a detail.
That was exactly like her.
Truth mattered to her when it improved presentation.
“What happened with the bill?”
Maya asked.
Connor answered.
“Mr. Mitchell provided another card.”
“Did it go through?”
“No.”
I stared at the phone.
“Another card declined?”
“Yes.”
“What did he do?”
“He became angry.”
“Shocking,” Riley said.
Connor almost laughed.
“He asked Evelyn to invoice him.”
“Did she?”
“No.”
“Then what?”
“He used Scott Thompson’s corporate card information.”
My head snapped up.
“Scott wasn’t there.”
“No.”
“Did Scott authorize that?”
“We don’t know.”
Maya’s voice sharpened.
“Did the restaurant process it?”
“No.”
“Good.”
Connor continued.
“Evelyn told him she would contact Mr. Thompson directly.”
“What did Dad do?”
“He left.”
“And Mom?”
“She went with him.”
I looked at Riley.
There was something almost absurd about it.
My parents had returned to repair the story and discovered the money problem had followed them into the room.
“Connor, did either of them ask for the note?”
Maya said.
“Yes.”
“Did you give it to them?”
“No.”
“I have it,” I said.
Connor corrected himself immediately.
“Right, sorry.”
“Did they ask whether Amber had taken it?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“That Evelyn had advised Amber to preserve anything relevant.”
Maya nodded.
“Thank you.”
After we ended the call, Riley stood and paced toward the window.
“So now he’s saying she forged the note.”
Maya folded her hands.
“He is saying something that reduces his apparent responsibility.”
“That is lawyer for yes.”
“It is lawyer for we document statements before assigning motive.”
Riley rolled her eyes.
“I’m going to be bad at this.”
“You’re allowed to be angry.”
“I’m excellent at that.”
Maya looked at me.
“You need to decide whether you’re retaining me.”
I looked at the agreement.
The retainer still looked impossible.
“So we’re back to money.”
“Yes.”
I appreciated that she did not soften it.
“What happens if I don’t?”
“You can freeze your credit and make fraud reports yourself.”
“Can I get the loan documents?”
“In many cases, yes.”
“Can I challenge them?”
“Yes.”
“Then why do I need you?”
Riley stopped pacing.
Maya did not look offended.
“You may not.”
That surprised me.
She tapped the agreement with one finger.
“If this is straightforward identity theft, you may be able to handle much of the first stage yourself.”
“And if it isn’t?”
“If your actual signature appears on documents, if there are electronic records showing authentication from devices or accounts associated with you, if your father claims authorization, or if business entities were created using your information, it gets more complicated.”
My stomach tightened again.
“What if I signed something without reading it?”
“Then we need to know what you signed, under what circumstances, and what the document actually said.”
“So I could be responsible.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But I could.”
“There are possibilities I’m not going to rule out before seeing evidence.”
I looked down at my hands.
The urge to call Dad came so suddenly I almost did it.
He would explain.
He would make it sound simple.
He had always been good at turning confusion into obedience.
My phone buzzed.
Mom.
This time it was a text.
Please don’t let strangers turn this into something criminal.
I handed it to Maya.
She read it.
“Do not respond.”
“What if she knows something?”
“She probably does.”
“Then shouldn’t I ask?”
“Not yet.”
Riley returned to the chair.
“Why?”
“Because right now the parents have more information than Amber does.”
Maya slid the phone back.
“If Amber starts asking specific questions, she teaches them what she has discovered.”
I thought about Dad’s message.
Incomplete information.
He was counting on that.
Maya continued.
“You need records before confrontation.”
I looked at the retainer again.
“What if I pay part?”
“We can structure limited representation for the document requests and initial lender communications.”
“How much?”
She wrote a smaller number on a legal pad and turned it toward me.
Still more than I had.
But not impossible in the way the first amount had been.
Riley opened her mouth.
“No.”
She shut it.
“Good personal growth,” I said.
“Thank you.”
Maya’s mouth twitched.
“I can give you until tomorrow to decide.”
“I’ll decide now.”
Both of them looked at me.
My heart was pounding.
“I want limited representation.”
Maya nodded.
“Then read the revised agreement.”
I read every line.
Some of it I read three times.
Riley began bouncing one knee and stopped when I glanced at her.
When I reached the signature line, my hand paused.
The empty space looked larger than it was.
Maya waited.
No tapping.
No sigh.
No joke about lawyers.
I signed my own name.
This time I knew what the paper meant.
We left her office just after noon.
Outside, the city had turned bright and windy.
Riley wanted food.
I wanted to disappear.
We compromised on coffee and a bagel from a shop two blocks away.
I sat by the window while she ordered.
A man at the next table argued quietly with someone on his phone about drywall.
Two teenagers shared earbuds.
A woman in scrubs ate soup while reading a paperback.
Nobody knew my father might have opened six figures of debt in my name.
Nobody cared.
It was strangely comforting.
Riley returned carrying two coffees and one bagel cut in half.
May you like
“You’re eating.”
“That sounded authoritarian.”
