I almost laughed.
Honey.
She had called me “girl,” “freeloader,” “office worker,” anything but my name. And now suddenly I was honey.
Ms. Bennett opened her folder and spread several copies across the coffee table. The first page displayed a credit card application with my name, my social security number, and a signature that looked like mine if you glanced quickly—but the pressure strokes were off. It was a carefully practiced imitation.
Marcus leaned forward and then jerked back as if the paper burned him. “That’s not—”
“The account was opened three months ago,” Ms. Bennett said. “The spending pattern traces to vendors and withdrawals near your known locations. We also have a recorded call from a collection agency, in which Ms. Carter stated she never opened this account, and a follow-up letter requesting an investigation.”
Diane lifted her chin. “She’s trying to frame my son.”
I placed a second page on top of the stack. “That’s not the only one.”
Marcus stared at it. His jaw tightened. “Leah, you’re overreacting. I was going to pay it back when I got hired.”
“When?” I asked, my voice flat. “After your mother got back from Hawaii? After she posted pictures of herself on a beach while I worked overtime?”
Diane’s expression twisted. “How dare you talk about me like—”
Deputy Ramirez raised a hand. “Ma’am. Enough.”
The deputy turned to Marcus. “Sir, you’re being informed that there is a pending investigation into identity theft and financial fraud. Today, we are here to keep the peace while Ms. Carter gathers personal belongings and while Ms. Bennett serves notice regarding occupancy and financial liability.”
Marcus jumped to his feet again. “Occupancy? What are you talking about?”
I reached into the folder I had thrown onto his lap earlier. “Flip to the section you didn’t read.”
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