The Dress My Stepsister Burned

I stared at the screen until the letters blurred.

My name was written in neat black ink.

Emily Elizabeth Carter.

The signature looked almost exactly like mine.

Almost.

Whoever had written it had copied the long curve of the E and the small flourish I used at the end of Carter. But the letters were too carefully formed, as if someone had practiced them repeatedly.

I had never signed that document.

I had never even seen it.

“That's impossible,” I whispered.

Dad pulled the phone back.

“You were seventeen when this was submitted.””

“I was still in high school.””

“I know.””

“I didn't even have a bank account with that bank!””

Dad looked at the document again.

The authorization form stated that I had agreed to transfer sixty thousand dollars from my education fund into an investment account.

A box near the bottom confirmed that my identity had been verified in person.

Beside it was a signature from a bank employee.

Dad read the name.

“Margaret Lewis.””

“Do you know her?””

“No.””

He enlarged the document again.

A second signature appeared beneath mine.

Vanessa Carter.

I pointed at it.

“So she signed it, too.””

Dad nodded.

“That's what it looks like.””

“But why would she need my signature if she was allowed to manage the account?””

“Because she wasn't the owner.””

The answer was immediate.

Dad had spent years handling complicated contracts for his construction business. He knew how financial documents worked.

“The account was established for your benefit. I was the custodian while you were a minor. Vanessa had no authority to transfer those funds without the appropriate approvals.””

“Then how did the bank allow it?””

“I don't know.””

He picked up his phone and began taking photographs of every page.

“We're preserving everything.””

I sat down in the leather chair across from his desk.

The room felt smaller than it had a few minutes earlier.

“What if the bank says I signed it?””

“Then we prove you didn't.””

“How?””

Dad paused.

“We start with the facts.””

He sat opposite me.

“Where were you on the date of this document?””

I closed my eyes, searching my memory.

Three months before my eighteenth birthday would have been during my senior year of high school.

“I was at school.””

“Every day?””

“Almost. I remember being sick around then. I missed two days in October, but I don't know the exact date.””

“Did you have a driver's license?””

“No.””

“Did you ever visit that bank with Vanessa?””

I shook my head.

“Not once.””

Dad nodded.

“That's where we'll begin.””

A knock sounded at the study door.

We both turned.

Chloe stood in the doorway wearing an oversized sweatshirt and pajama shorts. Her designer gown was gone, replaced by the clothes she usually wore around the house.

For the first time all evening, she looked her age.

“Dad?””

He placed the documents on the desk.

“What is it?””

Chloe stepped inside.

“Mom wants to talk to you.””

“Tell her I'm busy.””

“She says it's important.””

“Everything is important tonight.””

Chloe looked at me.

“What did you find?””

I didn't answer.

She approached the desk and noticed the papers.

Her eyes stopped on the authorization form.

“What's that?””

“Evidence that someone forged my signature,” I said.

Her expression changed.

“Forged?””

I turned the paper toward her.

She stared at the page.

Then she looked at me.

“That looks like your signature.””

“Because someone copied it.””

Chloe picked up the document.

Her fingers moved across the page as she read the details.

“This says the money was transferred to a property company.””

“Yes.””

She looked at the next page.

Then the next.

Suddenly, she sat down.

“Mom told me the house was bought with money Grandpa left me.””

Dad's jaw tightened.

“Your grandfather died two years ago.””

“I know.””

“He didn't leave you sixty thousand dollars.””

Chloe looked down.

“She said she was putting money aside for me. She said she wanted to make sure I had somewhere to live.””

“And you believed her?””

Chloe's face flushed.

“Why wouldn't I?””

Dad didn't answer.

For several seconds, the only sound was the ticking clock on the wall.

Then Chloe looked at me.

“Did you really not know about the account?””

I almost laughed.

“No, Chloe. I didn't know that my mother had left me ninety-five thousand dollars. I didn't know someone had taken it. And I certainly didn't know someone had been signing my name to documents.””

She swallowed.

“I didn't mean—”

“You didn't mean what? To accept a house bought with money that wasn't yours?””

Her eyes filled with tears.

“I didn't know.””

I studied her face.

I wanted to believe her.

But I remembered the way she had stood beside the fire, laughing while my dress burned.

I remembered the look of satisfaction on her face when she realized I couldn't replace it.

And I remembered how she had told me that I worked at a coffee shop as if earning money honestly made me inferior.

“You knew someone was paying for your lifestyle,” I said.

“You just didn't ask where the money came from.””

Chloe looked away.

“Maybe.””

The admission surprised me.

She wiped her cheek with her sleeve.

“I knew Mom had money problems. I knew she borrowed money sometimes. But she always said everything was under control.””

“Did you ever see the account documents?””

“No.””

“Did you ever sign anything?””

She hesitated.

Dad leaned forward.

“Chloe?””

She looked at him.

“Last year, Mom asked me to sign some papers for the house.””

“What papers?””

“I don't know. She said they were just investment documents. She told me the property needed to be registered under my name because it would save money on taxes.””

Dad's expression hardened.

“Did you read them?””

“No.””

“Did you sign them?””

Chloe nodded.

“How many?””

“I don't remember. Three or four.””

“Where are they now?””

“Mom has them.””

Dad stood.

“Then we're going to find them.””

Chloe rose quickly.

“You can't go through her things!””

“Those documents may be evidence of financial fraud.””

“She'll never forgive me!””

I stared at her.

“Is that what you're worried about?””

She turned toward me.

“You don't understand what it's like to be her daughter!””

The words came out so loudly that she startled herself.

I stood, too.

“No, Chloe. I don't understand what it's like to have a mother who protects me no matter what I do. I don't understand what it's like to get everything I want and still decide that someone else's happiness is too much for me to tolerate.””

Her face crumpled.

For a moment, I thought she might apologize.

Instead, she whispered, “I never asked her to burn your dress.””

“No. You just stood there and watched.””

Chloe lowered her head.

Dad walked past us toward the staircase.

“Both of you, stay here.””

He disappeared upstairs.

A moment later, we heard Vanessa's voice.

“Richard, you have absolutely no right to search my bedroom!””

“Then explain the documents.””

“Give me those!””

Something hit the floor.

Chloe rushed toward the stairs, but I caught her arm.

“Wait.””

“Let go of me!””

“Listen.””

We stood in the hallway.

A drawer slammed upstairs.

Then Dad spoke.

“I found them.””

Vanessa's voice dropped to a furious whisper.

“You don't know what you're looking at.””

“Then explain this.””

Silence.

A long, dreadful silence.

Then Dad said, “Why is Emily's birth certificate attached to an application for a second bank account?””

My grip on Chloe's arm loosened.

She stared at me.

“What does that mean?””

I couldn't answer.

We heard footsteps descending the stairs.

Dad appeared at the bottom carrying a manila envelope.

Vanessa followed him.

Her face had gone pale, but she still held her chin high.

“Richard, please. We can discuss this privately.””

“No more private discussions.””

He placed the envelope on the study desk and removed a stack of papers.

The first was a bank application.

The second was a copy of my birth certificate.

The third was a form authorizing the opening of an account under my name.

But the account number was different from the one belonging to my education fund.

Dad read the account details.

“This account was opened four years ago.””

I frowned.

“That's when you married Vanessa.””

He nodded.

The account application listed me as the beneficiary.

But beneath my name was another line.

*AUTHORIZED USER: VANESSA CARTER.*

Dad turned to her.

“Why did you open an account using Emily's identity?””

Vanessa's lips parted.

“I didn't.””

“Your signature is on the form.””

“Someone must have copied it.””

I stared at her.

“You're saying someone forged your signature, too?””

She glared at me.

“Don't put words in my mouth.””

Dad lifted another page.

“This account received twenty-five thousand dollars in transfers from Emily's education fund.””

Vanessa's shoulders stiffened.

“And the money was transferred out again,” he continued.

“Within days.””

“Richard—”

“Where did it go?””

She looked at the floor.

Dad's voice became quieter.

“Where did my daughter's money go?””

Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.

“I was going to pay it back.””

“When?””

“I needed time.””

“You had four years.””

“I thought I could fix everything before anyone noticed.””

I felt cold all over.

“Who else knew?””

Vanessa looked at me.

Then she looked at Chloe.

Neither of them spoke.

Dad picked up the final document from the envelope.

It was a bank statement showing the destination of the last transfer from the second account.

The recipient was a private financial company.

I had never heard of it.

Dad had.

His face changed the moment he read the name.

“That's not possible.””

“What?”” I asked.

He turned the paper around.

The company was called Carter Financial Holdings.

My father's company.

The business he had founded before he married Mom.

The business he had spent twenty years building.

The business he had always said he would leave to me someday.

I looked at him.

“Dad?””

He stared at the statement.

“I never authorized this transfer.””

Vanessa suddenly stepped toward the desk.

“Richard, don't make a mistake you can't undo.””

He looked up.

“What's in the Carter Financial account?””

She said nothing.

Dad grabbed his phone and dialed his business partner.

When the call connected, he spoke quickly.

“James, I need you to check something for me. There's a transfer into Carter Financial Holdings from an account under Emily's name. I need to know who authorized it.””

He listened.

His expression grew more troubled.

“An internal account?”” he repeated.

He looked at me.

Then at Vanessa.

“What do you mean it was used to pay off company debt?””

He went silent.

I felt my heartbeat in my throat.

Dad's voice dropped.

“James, tell me exactly how much was transferred.””

He listened for several seconds.

Then he slowly lowered the phone.