That was how I ended up in Dad’s living room watching Detective Price show my sister a document with my father’s signature on it.
“Have you ever heard of Meridian Claims Administration?” the detective asked Tessa. “Or the Ashford Mill Relief Fund?”
She shook her head. Behind us, Dad made a quiet sound. He was staring at the floor.
“We’ve recovered messages between you and an account connected to Mr. Mercer,” Price said. “He contacted you about your sister’s computer several times.”
Tessa’s voice rose. “Brandon told me he needed proof Lauren was hiding money! He said I should find out what she makes.”
“Did he tell you to film my laptop?” I asked.
Her eyes filled. “He said it would be funny.”
Detective Price opened another file. “Miss Bell, your business partner is under investigation for unauthorized access to corporate computer systems. An attempt to break into a restricted Ellison database this afternoon was traced to internet service registered to your proposed studio.”
“But we haven’t even opened it!”
“The lease was signed six weeks ago. Your name is on it as the tenant and the personal guarantor.”
“I signed some paperwork,” Tessa whispered. “Brandon said it was preliminary.”
“Did you read it?”
She shook her head.
For the first time that afternoon, I wasn’t angry. I was afraid. My sister was reckless and cruel, but she wasn’t sophisticated enough to plan corporate data theft. Somebody had used her.
Detective Price looked at my father. “Mr. Bell, I think it’s time you explained your connection to Brandon Mercer.”
Dad’s shoulders shook. “I was trying to protect you girls.”
“From what?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
The detective turned the tablet toward me. The document was a records transfer authorization from Meridian Claims Administration, dated October 2014, one week before my mother’s accident. There were three signatures under “Records Transfer Approval”: Helena Marsh, Frank Bell, and a name I didn’t recognize, Arthur Vale.
“You told us you worked in property management,” I said.
“I did,” Dad said.
“Then why is your signature on an insurance claims document? And why is Mom’s name in the attached records?”
His face crumpled.
“Miss Bell,” the detective said, “whoever was behind this wasn’t just trying to get your employee information. He wanted something your father has been hiding for twelve years.”
Adrian Hawthorne is a celebrated author and dedicated archivist who finds inspiration in the hidden stories of the past. Educated at Oxford, he now works at the National Archives, where preserving history fuels his evocative writing. Balancing archival precision with creative storytelling, Adrian founded the Hawthorne Institute of Literary Arts to mentor emerging writers and honor the timeless art of narrative.