Chapter 3 - The signature that wasn’t mine
The principal’s office smelled like leather and coffee.
Marcus sat across from me.
Victoria beside him.
Chloe beside me.
Sarah waited outside.
I kept my phone visible on the desk.
Principal Bell folded his hands.
“Our enrollment records list Victoria Vance as Chloe’s authorized maternal guardian.”
“Maternal guardian?”
Not mother.
Interesting distinction.
“Who authorized that?”
He opened a file.
Marcus said:
“Elena, don’t make this worse.”
I ignored him.
The principal slid a page toward me.
My name appeared.
Elena Sterling.
Signature beneath it.
Authorization granting Victoria broad educational decision-making powers.
I stared.
“That isn’t my signature.”
Marcus laughed softly.
“Of course it is.”
“No.”
I knew my signature.
This one was close.
Too close.
But the E curved backward.
Mine never did.
“What is this document dated?”
Seven years earlier.
The year Chloe started preschool.
The year Marcus first told me school events made me anxious.
I had never signed this.
Principal Bell’s confidence faded slightly.
“We relied on documents provided by Mr. Sterling.”
“Were they notarized?”
“Yes.”
“By whom?”
He hesitated.
Victoria answered.
“My brother.”
There it was.
Her brother.
Notary.
I looked at her.
“How long have you known my husband?”
She crossed her legs.
“Professionally? Ten years.”
Marcus interrupted.
“This is getting ridiculous.”
“No,” I said. “It’s getting chronological.”
I turned to Chloe.
“Do they make you call Victoria Mom?”
Marcus slammed his palm on the armrest.
“Enough.”
Chloe jumped.
I looked at him.
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For doing exactly what she’s afraid of.”
He went still.
Chloe whispered:
“At school.”
“What?”
“I have to call her Mom here.”
Victoria suddenly stood.
“That is not true.”
Chloe’s eyes dropped.
“Sometimes.”
“Why?”
“Because Dad says people ask questions.”
“What questions?”
She looked toward Marcus.
His face had gone cold.
Then she whispered:
“Why my real mom never comes.”
The room went silent.
I wanted to cry.
Instead, I asked:
“What do they tell people?”
Chloe squeezed my fingers.
“That you’re sick.”
My stomach dropped.
“How sick?”
“Dad says you can’t handle crowds.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“I was protecting you.”
“From what?”
He had no answer.
Then the principal’s assistant entered.
She looked pale.
“Mr. Bell?”
“What?”
“The school compliance officer wants to speak with you.”
“Why?”
She glanced at my phone.
Then at Marcus.
“Someone sent her a video from the music room.”
I hadn’t sent anything.
Sarah hadn’t either.
May you like
That meant someone else had been recording.
And whatever they captured had frightened the administration faster than I expected.
