Chapter 3 - The Signature
The lender’s fraud-prevention team contacted me an hour later.
They emailed me a secure copy of the document after confirming identity and obtaining the appropriate permissions from their process.
At the top:
GIFT LETTER.
Borrower:
Natalie Miller.
Property:
A four-bedroom house in Briar Ridge Estates.
Gift amount:
$180,000.
Donor:
Rachel Miller.
Relationship:
Sister.
The statement beneath said I had no expectation of repayment.
Then my signature.
It looked real.
Too real.
The shape of the R.
The strange way I crossed the second l.
My signature.
But not written there by me.
Then I recognized where it came from.
Three years earlier, my parents sold a small jointly owned vacation cabin.
I signed a family distribution acknowledgement because Dad had paid some maintenance costs on my behalf.
The signature had been scanned.
Same slight break in the downstroke.
Same angle.
Somebody copied it.
I called Natalie.
No answer.
Mom called me ten minutes later.
“Why are you upsetting the bank?”
That sentence told me everything.
Not:
What bank?
Not:
What happened?
Why are you upsetting the bank?
I said:
“Did you forge my signature?”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“Did Natalie?”
May you like
“Rachel, she found the perfect house.”
I hung up.
