I didn't tell Lily the document was fake.
Not yet.
I didn't tell her that the signature wasn't mine either, because I wasn't completely sure.
Instead, I folded the paper and put it inside the drawer where I kept the mortgage documents, birth certificates, and the few remaining photographs I hadn't thrown away.
“Where did you find this?”
“In Daddy's office.”
“Were you looking for something?”
“No.”
“Then why were you in his office?”
She looked uncomfortable.
“He told me to get his charger.”
That was another detail.
Marcus never let Lily into his office.
He had always called it his work room, even when he was unemployed and spent most afternoons watching sports there. He kept the door locked because he claimed she might touch something important.
“Did he see you with the paper?”
“No.”
“Did anyone?”
She shook her head.
“Okay.”
“Are you angry?”
“No.”
“You're doing your quiet face.”
I almost smiled.
“What quiet face?”
“The one where you're angry but you're trying not to make your voice angry.”
I sat beside her.
“You know something?”
“What?”
“Adults make mistakes.”
She nodded.
“But children aren't supposed to fix them.”
Her eyes moved toward the drawer.
“Is Daddy lying?”
I took a breath.
“I don't know yet.”
That answer seemed to comfort her more than a lie would have.
After school, I drove straight to the courthouse.
The clerk looked at the document and frowned.
“Where did you get this?”
“My daughter found it.”
She studied the signature.
“This isn't an original.”
“I know.”
“Do you recognize the filing number?”
I did.
It was from a custody agreement I had never seen.
The clerk typed for several minutes.
Then she stopped.
“Ma'am, this document was submitted three weeks ago.”
My mouth went dry.
“By whom?”
She hesitated.
“I can't disclose that without the proper request.”
“I am the person whose signature is on it.”
Her eyes lifted.
“Then you should speak with an attorney immediately.”
I left the courthouse with a headache and called the only lawyer I could afford.
Her name was Dana Brooks.
She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she said, “Do not confront your ex-husband yet.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“You were absolutely planning to.”
I sat in my car.
“Fine.”
“Send me photographs of every page.”
“I have one copy.”
“Then keep it safe.”
“Dana, if someone forged my signature—”
“Don't finish that sentence until we know.”
She paused.
“Annie, when did Marcus first tell you he wanted Lily to live with him?”
“Never.”
“What?”
“He never asked.”
“That makes this worse.”
I stared through the windshield.
Across the parking lot, a mother was helping her little boy climb into a minivan.
“Why would he do this?”
Dana's answer was quiet.
“Maybe he isn't planning to take Lily.”
“Then what?”
“Maybe he wants you to believe he already has the legal right to.”
I didn't speak.
She continued.
“People forge documents for different reasons. Sometimes they want custody. Sometimes money. Sometimes leverage.”
“Leverage for what?”
“I don't know.”
I thought about the wedding.
I thought about the envelope.
I thought about Lily's fear.
Then I remembered something Marcus had said three months earlier.
You don't need to know everything, Annie. Some things are easier if you just let them happen.
At the time, I thought he was talking about Elise.
Now I wasn't sure.
That evening, I called Marcus.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“Hey.”
His voice was calm.
Too calm.
“Did you give Lily a document with my signature?”
Silence.
Then, “What document?”
“Don't do that.”
“Do what?”
“Pretend you don't know what I'm talking about.”
He sighed.
“Annie, today's not a good day.”
“Saturday is your wedding.”
“Yes.”
“And you're asking Lily to read something.”
“It's a small part of the ceremony.”
“Why does it tell her Elise is her new mother?”
“She isn't replacing you.”
“Then why say it?”
“Because families change.”
I closed my eyes.
“You told Lily I signed a custody agreement.”
Another silence.
This one lasted longer.
“Who told you that?”
“My daughter.”
“She's nine.”
“She can read.”
“Annie—”
“Did you forge my signature?”
He laughed.
It wasn't a nervous laugh.
It was an offended laugh.
“You've lost your mind.”
“Answer me.”
“No.”
“Then show me the original.”
“I don't have to prove anything to you.”
“You absolutely do if you're claiming I signed it.”
He lowered his voice.
“You're making a scene before the wedding even happens.”
“I haven't spoken to anyone.”
“You're calling me.”
“You're my daughter's father.”
“And you're trying to sabotage my marriage.”
I felt something inside me go still.
“I hope you have a good wedding, Marcus.”
“Thank you.”
“But Lily won't be there.”
His voice sharpened.
“You can't do that.”
“Watch me.”
I ended the call.
Ten minutes later, my mother arrived.
She didn't knock.
“Marcus called me.”
“Of course he did.”
“You can't keep Lily away.”
“I can until I know what's happening.”
Mom sat down.
“You're letting your anger destroy everything.”
“My anger didn't forge my signature.”
She went silent.
“Mom.”
“What?”
“Did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That Marcus planned to submit that document?”
She looked at me.
Then away.
I didn't need an answer.
I stood.
“You knew.”
“I suspected.”
“How long?”
“Not long.”
“Before or after you took Lily's letter?”
She looked frightened.
That was the first time I had seen fear in my mother's face.
“Your sister was desperate.”
“Desperate enough to steal my child?”
“No.”
“Then tell me what she wanted.”
Mom's eyes filled.
“She thinks Marcus is going to leave her.”
I stared.
“What?”
“He told her the custody arrangement would make everything secure.”
“So Elise knew?”
“I don't know.”
“You do.”
She shook her head.
“I know she was frightened.”
“Why?”
Mom reached into her purse.
She pulled out a photograph.
It showed Marcus standing beside a woman I didn't recognize.
The woman was holding a newborn baby.
My heart stopped.
“Who is that?”
Mom didn't answer.
I took the photograph.
On the back was a date.
Three months before Marcus asked for our divorce.
And beneath the date, in Elise's handwriting, were six words.
He promised this child a family.
I looked at my mother.
“What child?”
She whispered, “I don't know.”
The next morning, I went to Elise's apartment.
She opened the door wearing no makeup and yesterday's dress.
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she looked at the photograph in my hand.
Her face changed.
“You found it.”
“Who is the baby?”
She closed her eyes.
“Come inside.”
I didn't move.
“Who is the baby?”
“Elijah.”
“Whose child?”
She swallowed.
“Marcus's.”
Everything inside me seemed to tilt.
“You knew?”
“Yes.”
“How long?”
“Since before your marriage ended.”
I stared at her.
“You knew my husband had another child.”
She began crying.
“And you still married him?”
“No.”
Her voice broke.
“He told me the baby wasn't his.”
I looked at the photograph again.
“Then whose is he?”
Elise wiped her face.
“I don't know.”
“Then why did you say Marcus's?”
“Because that's what he told me.”
I stepped backward.
She reached for the doorframe.
“There is something else.”
I waited.
“Marcus didn't ask me to marry him because he loved me.”
“Why?”
“He needed me to sign something.”
“What?”
She whispered, “A guardianship agreement.”
The same kind of agreement Marcus had apparently forged with my name.
I looked at her.
“What did you sign?”
She started shaking.
“I don't know.”
Click here to continue reading: PART 3: My Sister Finally Admitted What She Had Signed, But The Truth Made Her Wedding Plans Look Like Something Much Darker
The Morning My Daughter Asked Me Why Her Father Needed Her To Keep One Thing From Me
Part 2 of 20
