Chapter 5 - A Signature That Was Not Mine
The packet from Oakridge arrived through a secure channel three days later.
Richard called before opening it with me on a video conference.
"I want you to look carefully at the signature line," he said.
There was my name, written in slanted blue letters.
It looked almost right.
Almost.
But Arthur used to tease me that my capital M resembled the roof of an old barn.
The signature on the form had a smooth, ordinary M.
"I didn't sign that," I said.
Richard did not leap to conclusions.
He checked the document metadata and asked the facility how the application had been submitted.
Jessica had uploaded the page from her laptop.
The facility had not accepted the paperwork as a completed agreement, and no move-in had been authorized.
That limitation mattered.
It also did not explain why my name was on a document I had never touched.
"We need to preserve the records and give them a chance to explain," Richard said.
I agreed, though part of me wanted to drive back and ask Jessica directly.
Colin called that evening.
His voice was exhausted.
"The kids are upset. Jess says the rental notice is a misunderstanding."
"It's not."
"We can't find another place by the end of the month."
"Then ask Richard about the legitimate options. Don't put Lucas in the middle."
He was quiet.
"Mom, did you sign anything for Oakridge?"
I closed my eyes.
"No, Colin."
His breathing changed.
"Jess said you did."
"Ask her to show you when and where."
He hung up without saying goodbye.
The next morning, Richard received an email from Jessica's attorney, copied to Colin.
It alleged that I was being isolated by Helen and Richard, and demanded a meeting to review my finances.
Richard answered with a brief, professional response affirming my independence and refusing to disclose private financial records.
I admired his restraint.
Mine was harder to find.
That evening, Helen found me staring at the kitchen wall.
"You're thinking about Colin," she said.
"I'm thinking about all the times he believed what was easiest to believe."
"That's not the same as believing the truth."
I nodded.
Then my phone lit up with an image from Colin.
It was a photograph of the alleged Oakridge signature.
Below it he had written only five words.
JESSICA SAYS YOU'RE LYING, MOM.
May you like
For the first time since leaving, I wondered whether my son would choose to become my accuser.
