Chapter 14 - THE NOTARY
The notary’s name was Evelyn Grant.
I had never met her.
Rachel contacted her immediately.
Evelyn remembered Andrew.
That was the first bad sign.
The second was that she remembered Lorraine.
According to her statement, Andrew and Lorraine had appeared together at Evelyn’s small office outside Syracuse.
They brought a document already bearing my signature.
Evelyn told them she could not notarize a signature without the signer present.
Lorraine claimed I was recovering from surgery.
I had not undergone surgery.
Andrew claimed I was unable to travel.
Also false.
Evelyn refused.
They left.
The document later submitted to the lender carried Evelyn’s stamp anyway.
When Rachel told me, I felt something deeper than anger.
This was organized.
Someone had copied or reproduced the notary information.
The lender was notified.
So was Evelyn.
So were the appropriate investigators.
Andrew’s attorney withdrew from representing him two days later.
The email Gregory sent to Rachel was short and careful.
My client did not disclose material facts now relevant to this matter.
Andrew blamed me.
Of course he did.
“You cost me my attorney.”
“No.”
I stood in the living room while he packed clothes.
“You cost yourself your attorney.”
He zipped a suitcase.
“Where am I supposed to go?”
“Your mother is at Melissa’s.”
“Melissa told her she can stay one week.”
“That sounds like a family issue.”
Andrew looked at me.
“We are still family.”
“No.”
He flinched.
I had never said the word so simply.
No explanation.
No apology.
No softening.
Just no.
He sat on the edge of the bed.
“Was none of it real?”
I hated that question.
Because some of it had been real.
The camping trips.
The stupid jokes.
The winter we painted the living room at midnight.
The way he held my hand at my grandmother’s funeral.
Real memories do not disappear because someone later betrays you.
They become more painful because they remain real.
“It was real to me,” I said.
Andrew looked down.
“That is why this hurts.”
For the first time, he had no defense.
Then my phone rang.
It was my clinic director.
My stomach dropped when I heard her voice.
“Claire, we received a call today asking whether you had been manipulating income verification documents.”
May you like
I closed my eyes.
Andrew’s financial mess had finally reached my job.
