Chapter 11 - A Vote Cast in My Name
I hadn't attended the meeting.
I hadn't authorized a proxy.
And I certainly hadn't voted to approve the sale of company assets to a newly formed holding company.
Yet there was my printed name under an electronic consent.
The signature looked different from the bank forgery, which suggested someone had become more careful.
Dana immediately notified the meeting organizer that the consent was disputed and requested preservation of signing logs and associated records.
We didn't announce that the transaction was invalid.
We demanded proof that I had approved it.
A day later, the signing platform's audit trail was produced through counsel.
The consent had been opened from an address tied to the Hail Advisory building.
The verification phone number ended in the four digits of Belle's old line.
Belle stared at the record with genuine horror.
“Dad made me give Graham that phone last month.”
She had already obtained independent counsel.
Her lawyer asked her to preserve the device and not confront Graham.
My father, meanwhile, went on a local business radio show.
He spoke about the heartbreak of raising an ambitious daughter who had forgotten the sacrifices of her parents.
He never mentioned the three dawn transfers.
He never mentioned the forged signature.
He said he had forgiven me for my public attacks.
I listened to the interview in Lena's kitchen until my hands were shaking.
Then I turned it off.
“Why does he get to sound reasonable?” I asked.
“Because a microphone can't cross-examine him,” Lena said.
Northline's internal review finally produced a limited result.
The altered report was not a Northline-issued final document, and the attempted access through Graham's old credentials had been blocked and logged.
Priya told me the company was preparing to restore my normal assignments while it completed its separate security review.
It was the first piece of ground I had recovered.
Then Malcolm called.
The investor group had suspended the proposed transaction because of the disputed consent.
Nathaniel could no longer hide the trust questions behind a completed sale.
For a full minute, I felt triumphant.
Then the front desk at Dana's building received a package addressed to me.
Inside was the key to my grandmother's old office.
And a note in my mother's handwriting.
May you like
THE ORIGINALS ARE STILL THERE.
