Chapter 2 - The Will in the Fire
Jason’s mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
I held the forged will in front of him.
“You signed this.”
“I didn’t know what it was.”
Robert laughed once.
No humor.
“You signed as a witness to a last will and testament.”
Jason looked at him.
“They told me it was insurance paperwork.”
“You signed next to the words WITNESS TO TESTATOR’S SIGNATURE.”
“I didn’t read it.”
I stared at him.
“You went to Dad’s hospital room?”
His eyes flicked toward Chloe.
There.
I saw it.
A silent conversation.
I turned.
“Chloe?”
She folded her arms.
“Jason came because I asked him to.”
“Why?”
“I needed help carrying some paperwork.”
“What paperwork?”
She looked at Mom.
I moved between them.
“No.”
Chloe frowned.
“What?”
“Stop checking her face before you answer.”
Her mouth tightened.
Robert stepped beside me.
“Hospital visitor records will answer most of this.”
Mom laughed.
“You think you can turn Thanksgiving dinner into a criminal trial?”
Robert looked at her.
“Linda, someone tried to submit a forged will for probate.”
That shut her up.
Aunt Melissa finally spoke.
“You submitted it?”
Mom snapped, “Stay out of this.”
Melissa’s wineglass trembled.
“Thomas was my brother.”
“And he was my husband.”
“Then why did his lawyer not know about the will?”
Mom’s face hardened.
“Because Thomas changed attorneys.”
Robert took out his phone.
“To whom?”
Silence.
“Name.”
Mom’s lips pressed together.
Robert dialed.
“Robert,” I said.
He held up a finger.
“Yes, this is Miller. Pull Thomas Brooks’s hospital access log. Final week. I need all visitor names and timestamps.”
He listened.
My pulse counted the seconds.
Then his eyes found Jason.
“Thank you.”
He ended the call.
“Jason entered at 3:12 p.m. the day the will is dated.”
Jason swallowed.
“Chloe arrived at 3:20.”
Chloe’s chair scraped.
Mom said, “That proves nothing.”
“Linda entered at 3:29.”
Mom went still.
Robert continued.
“A notary named Steven Pike entered at 3:34.”
I looked at Dad’s signature.
“What time does the will say he signed?”
“3:41.”
Robert opened the hospital chart.
“And at 3:40, your father was documented as unresponsive.”
The silence became physical.
I could hear the refrigerator motor in the kitchen.
Jason rubbed his forehead.
“I didn’t see him sign.”
Robert turned.
“Excuse me?”
“I didn’t.”
“You signed as a witness.”
“Chloe said he had already signed.”
Chloe’s head snapped toward him.
“Jason.”
He ignored her.
“I thought we were witnessing that it was his document.”
Robert’s voice flattened.
“That is not how witnessing works.”
“I know that now.”
“You’re thirty-one.”
Jason flinched.
I looked at him.
“You told me you were at work that day.”
“I was.”
“The visitor log says forty-seven minutes.”
He rubbed the side of his neck.
“I left for lunch.”
“At Dad’s hospital?”
“Hannah—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Because you were stressed.”
I laughed.
“Everyone keeps protecting me with lies.”
Chloe stood.
“You want to know why nobody tells you things?”
I looked at her.
“Go ahead.”
“Because you explode.”
I almost smiled.
“You watched Mom slap me and waited until Robert showed up to call me unstable.”
“I didn’t call you unstable.”
“Not yet.”
Robert interrupted.
“We need the notary.”
He searched the number.
Disconnected.
Business address?
Vacant.
I felt the room tilt another inch.
Mom headed toward the stairs.
An officer near the foyer blocked her.
“You’re not under arrest, ma’am, but we need you to remain available.”
She stared at him.
“You cannot detain me.”
Robert said, “Nobody said detained.”
“Then move.”
The officer did not.
Mom looked at me like this was my fault.
I stopped caring.
Robert reopened the visitor records.
“One more problem.”
“What?”
“The notary fee.”
He turned the screen toward me.
Paid online.
Account holder:
HANNAH BROOKS.
I stared.
“That’s not possible.”
“Card ending four-two-one-eight.”
My stomach dropped.
My old joint checking account.
I closed it six months ago.
Jason knew the login.
So did Mom, once.
Chloe knew the account existed.
I looked at all three.
“Who paid him?”
Nobody answered.
I grabbed my phone.
Bank app.
Archived statements.
There it was.
$850.
PIKE DOCUMENT SERVICES.
The transaction used my electronic authentication.
My face went numb.
Robert said, “Check your email security.”
I did.
Password-reset alerts.
Deleted folder.
Two-factor changes.
Then I found a blocked sender list.
ROBERT MILLER.
Blocked thirteen days ago.
I had never blocked him.
My hands started shaking.
Robert saw.
“What?”
“You said you called eleven times.”
“Yes.”
“Your number is blocked.”
His face hardened.
“By you?”
“No.”
I checked device activity.
One laptop.
My old MacBook.
The one I kept at Jason’s apartment because I worked there sometimes.
I looked at him.
His face collapsed.
“Hannah.”
A text appeared before he could say more.
CHLOE.
I opened it.
YOU PROMISED SHE WOULD NEVER FIND OUT.
Jason saw the screen.
He closed his eyes.
I whispered, “Find out what?”
He said nothing.
I stepped closer.
May you like
“What did you promise my sister?”
CUT.
