Chapter 2 - THE SIGNATURE
I read the document twice.
Then I stopped breathing.
Emily wasn't supposed to sign it.
I was.
Someone had placed a yellow sticker beside the signature line marked GUARDIAN.
Emily had signed exactly where Rebecca had pointed.
But the document wasn't about school.
It concerned a trust.
A trust created by Emily's mother.
My late wife, Sarah.
Sarah had died four years earlier after a sudden brain aneurysm.
Before her death, her parents had created a substantial trust for Emily.
I managed it as Emily's legal guardian.
The principal couldn't be touched until Emily turned twenty-five except for approved education and medical expenses.
At least, that was what I believed.
I walked back into the chapel.
Rebecca saw the paper.
Her shoulders dropped.
I held it up.
“What is this?”
She whispered, “Daniel.”
“What is this?”
Her father, Thomas, stood.
Unlike Margaret, he looked confused.
“Rebecca?”
She ignored him.
I walked toward her.
“You put a legal document in front of my seven-year-old daughter.”
“It isn't enforceable.”
“Then why did you need her signature?”
“I didn't.”
“She says you told her to sign it.”
Rebecca looked toward Emily outside.
“She's confused.”
I stepped closer.
“Say that again.”
Rebecca swallowed.
“Daniel, you're angry.”
“You're damn right.”
“You're not thinking clearly.”
“I've never thought more clearly in my life.”
I turned toward the guests.
“Is there an attorney here?”
Three hands went up.
One belonged to Martin Hayes.
Sarah's older brother.
Emily's uncle.
Martin came forward.
I handed him the document.
He read the first page.
Then the second.
His expression changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“Rebecca gave it to Emily.”
Martin looked at Rebecca.
“Do you know what this is?”
Rebecca said nothing.
Martin looked at me.
“This document attempts to amend the management structure of Sarah's family trust.”
“What does that mean?”
“If properly executed, it could eventually allow another appointed trustee to control distributions.”
“Who?”
Martin flipped the page.
Then stopped.
He looked at Rebecca.
“Rebecca Cole.”
The chapel erupted in whispers.
I felt sick.
Rebecca finally snapped.
“It was for administrative purposes!”
Martin laughed without humor.
“You tried to make yourself trustee of a child's inheritance.”
“I was going to marry her father.”
“That doesn't make you her guardian.”
“We were becoming a family.”
I stepped toward her.
“Families don't trick children into signing legal papers.”
Rebecca's eyes filled with tears.
But they weren't the tears I'd seen her shed during movies.
These were angry tears.
Desperate tears.
“You don't understand.”
“Then explain it.”
She looked around the chapel.
At the guests.
At the wedding flowers.
At the expensive decorations.
Then she looked at me.
“You were never going to make the changes yourself.”
“What changes?”
“To your estate.”
A chill moved through me.
“My estate?”
Rebecca laughed bitterly.
“You still have Sarah everywhere.”
I stared at her.
“She's dead, Rebecca.”
“Exactly!”
The word echoed.
Emily heard it from outside.
I saw her flinch.
That ended whatever sympathy I might have had left.
I pointed toward the doors.
“Leave.”
Rebecca stared at me.
“This is my wedding.”
“Not anymore.”
“You can't do this.”
“I just did.”
She stepped closer.
“You think this is only about me?”
“What does that mean?”
Rebecca's face went pale again.
Margaret grabbed her arm.
“Enough.”
Rebecca jerked free.
“No.”
She looked straight at me.
“You want the truth?”
“Yes.”
“Fine.”
She pointed toward Martin.
“Ask him why Sarah changed the trust six weeks before she died.”
Martin froze.
I turned.
“What is she talking about?”
Martin didn't answer.
Rebecca smiled.
And this time there was something almost triumphant in it.
“You didn't know?”
“Know what?”
Rebecca reached into the small bridal purse carried by her maid of honor.
She pulled out an envelope.
My name was written across the front.
Daniel.
I recognized the handwriting.
Sarah's.
My dead wife's handwriting.
Rebecca held it up.
“This is why Emily has to leave.”
I felt the floor disappear beneath me.
“Where did you get that?”
May you like
Rebecca smiled.
“From your house.”
