Chapter 8 - The Meeting Ava Never Had
The second SUV wasn't mine.
That was the first thing Margaret established.
The photograph showed a vehicle of the same make, model, year, and color.
But small details differed.
Different wheels.
Different dealership decal.
Different plate.
Someone had placed paperwork displaying my VIN inside it.
I didn't understand why.
Margaret did.
“Appearance.”
We were back in Grandpa's study.
“What does that mean?”
“It may have been staged to make a lender, investor, or third party believe Ava controlled the vehicle associated with your documents.”
Mom looked sick.
Grandpa asked:
“Why would they need two?”
Margaret tapped the photograph.
“They may not have had access to Amelia's SUV when they needed to show it.”
I stared at Ava's message.
“Then who is ‘they’?”
Margaret looked at me.
“That is the important question.”
Ava finally agreed to come over at noon.
Not because Grandpa demanded it.
Because Margaret told Mom that waiting would make everything harder.
Ava arrived wearing sunglasses.
She left them on indoors.
Grandpa pointed toward the chair across from his desk.
“Sit.”
She did.
Margaret remained standing near the window.
I sat to Grandpa's right.
Mom sat beside Ava.
Same formation as always.
Except this time Mom looked afraid.
Margaret began.
“Tell us how you met Nathan Reeves.”
Ava folded her arms.
“At a networking event.”
“When?”
“About six weeks ago.”
“What did he offer?”
“Help.”
“What kind?”
“Connections.”
“Money?”
“Eventually.”
“Did you give him money?”
Ava hesitated.
“Some.”
Mom's head snapped toward her.
“You told me he invested in you.”
“He was going to.”
“How much did you give him?”
Ava stared at the floor.
“Five thousand.”
Mom went pale.
“From the twelve I gave you?”
“Yes.”
Margaret wrote something.
“What was the five thousand for?”
“Due diligence.”
Grandpa actually snorted.
Ava glared.
“He said investors needed verification.”
“Verification of what?”
“My company.”
“You had almost no company.”
“I was building one.”
Margaret remained expressionless.
“Did Nathan ask what assets you owned?”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell him?”
Ava looked at me.
“That I had a vehicle.”
“My vehicle,” I said.
She snapped:
“At the time I thought Mom was giving it to me.”
Mom whispered:
“I never said it was already yours.”
“You said Amelia would let me keep it.”
“I said maybe.”
Grandpa interrupted.
“What else did you claim?”
Ava rubbed her forehead.
“That I had family backing.”
“What did that mean?”
“Grandpa's company.”
His expression went cold.
“My former company?”
“I never said you invested.”
“What did you say?”
“That my family had business experience.”
“That isn't an asset.”
“I know.”
“Did Nathan?”
Ava stopped.
Margaret noticed.
“What did he think?”
Ava swallowed.
“That Grandpa might back the company.”
Grandpa stared.
“Why?”
“Because I told him you liked the idea.”
“I didn't even know the company existed.”
“I know.”
Mom covered her face.
I asked the question I had been waiting to ask.
“What about my trust?”
Ava looked at me.
“I didn't touch it.”
“Did you show Nathan paperwork?”
“No.”
“Ava.”
“I showed him one statement.”
Grandpa stood.
“What statement?”
“One of Dad's estate papers.”
My chest tightened.
“Mine?”
“It listed both of us.”
“What did you tell him?”
“Nothing.”
“What did he believe?”
Ava didn't answer.
Margaret did.
“That Ava had future access to family assets.”
Ava looked furious.
“I didn't lie.”
“You allowed a false impression.”
“That isn't illegal.”
Margaret's expression became almost pitying.
“You should stop making legal conclusions.”
Ava went quiet.
I asked:
“What meeting did you need the SUV for the first day?”
She looked at me.
“What?”
“The interview downtown.”
Silence.
Mom slowly turned toward Ava.
“You had an interview.”
Ava said nothing.
Mom's face changed.
“You told me it was with Halpern Media.”
“I was considering them.”
“Did you interview?”
“No.”
I closed my eyes.
Of course.
The first reason was a lie.
Mom took my birthday gift less than twenty-four hours after I received it because Ava fabricated an interview.
“Where did you go?”
Ava whispered:
“Sterling House.”
“To Nathan?”
“Yes.”
Mom looked devastated.
That surprised me.
Not because Ava lied.
She had done it plenty.
But Mom had built the entire justification around that interview.
She had taken my keys because her younger daughter “needed to make a good impression.”
Now even that story was gone.
Mom looked at Ava.
“You lied to me.”
Ava snapped:
“You would have said no.”
I almost laughed.
Mom stared.
For once, she was experiencing the logic she had spent years defending.
You would have said no.
Therefore I didn't ask.
Exactly what Mom had done to me.
Ava continued.
“Nathan told me appearance mattered.”
“So you used Amelia's SUV.”
“Yes.”
“And then?”
“The meeting went well.”
“What did he offer?”
“A funding package.”
“How much?”
“Forty thousand.”
Margaret leaned forward.
“Loan or investment?”
“I thought investment.”
“What does the agreement say?”
Ava looked at the floor.
“Loan.”
Mom gasped.
“Forty thousand dollars?”
“I didn't get all of it.”
“How much?”
“Twenty.”
Grandpa asked:
“Where is it?”
“I spent some.”
“On?”
“Rent. Branding. Photographer. Website. Events.”
I stared.
“You borrowed twenty thousand dollars to look like you had a successful business?”
Ava's eyes filled.
“You don't understand what it takes.”
“No.”
My voice was quiet.
“I understand exactly what it takes. I just don't think buying the appearance of success creates success.”
She wiped her cheek angrily.
Margaret asked:
“Why is Amelia listed as guarantor?”
“Nathan said I needed one.”
“And you gave him Amelia's information?”
“I gave him the paperwork Mom gave me.”
“Who signed Amelia's name?”
Ava shook her head.
“I didn't.”
“Who?”
“Nathan said his office would prepare everything.”
“That isn't an answer.”
“I sent him a sample of Amelia's signature.”
My stomach dropped.
“What?”
Ava looked at me.
“From your birthday card to Grandpa.”
I couldn't speak.
Ava continued quickly.
“He said it was only to make the draft look complete.”
Mom stood.
Even she looked horrified.
“You sent him her signature?”
“He told me it wasn't final!”
Grandpa's hand tightened around his cane.
Margaret remained the calmest person in the room.
“Did you sign the loan agreement yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Did you receive twenty thousand dollars?”
“Yes.”
“Did Nathan or his company give you a repayment schedule?”
“Yes.”
“Why does he now demand forty?”
Ava looked scared.
“Because he says I breached the agreement when Grandpa interfered with the vehicle.”
Margaret frowned.
“That makes no sense unless the vehicle was pledged.”
“I didn't understand that part.”
Grandpa muttered:
“Of course you didn't.”
Ava began crying.
Not dramatically.
For the first time, she looked less like the sister who stole my car and more like a twenty-two-year-old who had made a chain of increasingly stupid decisions.
I didn't feel sympathy exactly.
But I felt something.
Margaret asked:
“Did Nathan ever meet Amelia?”
“No.”
“Speak to her?”
“No.”
“Verify the guarantor?”
“No.”
“Then he's either remarkably incompetent or something worse.”
The room went quiet.
She closed her notebook.
“We now know enough to stop talking to him directly.”
Mom swallowed.
“What happens?”
“First, Ava gives me every document and message.”
Ava nodded.
“Second, no one pays Nathan.”
Mom opened her mouth.
Margaret held up her hand.
“Third, Amelia files an identity theft report regarding the forged signature.”
Mom stared at me.
I stared back.
For once, she didn't ask me not to.
Maybe she finally understood.
Ava slowly removed her phone.
“I have everything in a cloud folder.”
Margaret held out her hand.
Ava unlocked it.
Then stopped.
“What?”
Margaret looked at the screen.
Ava's face had gone white again.
“There was a folder.”
“What folder?”
“The agreements.”
“Where?”
“In my account.”
She scrolled faster.
“It was here this morning.”
Grandpa stood.
“Deleted?”
“I didn't delete it.”
She checked the trash.
Empty.
Margaret's expression sharpened.
“Who else has access to your account?”
Ava stared at us.
Then whispered:
“Nathan set it up.”
Margaret took the phone.
A notification arrived while she was holding it.
Password changed.
Then another.
Recovery email updated.
Then a third.
A photograph had been sent from Ava's own account.
It showed a close-up of a document on a desk.
At the bottom were two signatures.
Ava's.
And mine.
Across the top were four words:
VEHICLE OWNERSHIP TRANSFER AUTHORIZATION.
Margaret enlarged the timestamp.
Her face changed.
“This was created ten minutes ago.”
Grandpa looked toward the front window.
May you like
At that exact moment, tires crunched slowly across his driveway.
Someone had just arrived.
