Chapter 3 - The Forged Signature
I stood frozen in the dark closet, my heart pounding so loudly I feared Julian and Eleanor would hear it.
Julian pocketed the deadly vial and promised his mother that he would take care of Clara before sunrise.
They left the office and walked down the hallway to prepare for their grim trip back to the hospital.
I waited exactly two minutes before pushing the closet door open and slipping out into the shadows.
I quietly climbed out the office window, dropping onto the soft, wet grass of the backyard.
I sprinted through the woods to my car, my mind racing with pure terror for my daughter's life.
I broke every speed limit in the city, desperately praying that my security contact was still outside Clara's room.
When I arrived at the hospital, I sprinted through the automatic doors and rushed toward the elevators.
I reached the correct floor and found my security friend standing firmly in front of Clara's door.
He assured me that nobody had entered the room since I left.
I breathed a massive sigh of relief and walked inside to find Clara still sleeping peacefully.
Julian had not arrived yet, which gave me the precious time I needed to analyze the stolen documents.
I pulled the insurance policy from my jacket and spread the papers across the small rolling table.
The insurance policy was damning, but it was not the only document I had grabbed from the safe.
I unfolded a thick stack of corporate loan agreements that Julian had used to keep his company afloat.
The Thorne family had secured a massive line of credit from an unregulated private equity firm.
I scanned the guarantor section of the loan, looking to see who had cosigned for such a massive amount of money.
My eyes locked onto the signature at the very bottom of the page, and the room started to spin.
The signature did not belong to Julian, nor did it belong to the wealthy Eleanor.
The name signed on the dotted line was Arthur Pendelton, my late husband and Clara's father.
The document was officially notarized and dated exactly two weeks after Arthur's tragic, unexpected death.
The Thorne family had not just targeted my daughter for a quick insurance payout.
They had built their entire fraudulent empire using my dead husband's stolen identity.
My phone suddenly vibrated with an incoming text message from the same blocked number.
The message told me to look out the hospital window if I wanted to see the true power of the Thorne family.
May you like
I walked to the glass and looked down at the dark, empty street below.
A massive explosion ripped through the night sky, completely destroying my beloved bakery in a blinding ball of fire.
