Chapter 11 - The Discovery
Jaren didn't knock. He burst through the front door, his face as white as chalk, a stack of computer printouts clutched in his trembling hands.
"Jaren?" I said, standing up immediately. "What happened? Did she make bail?"
"Her mother bailed her out an hour ago," Jaren gasped, fighting for air as if he had run a marathon. "Your mom took out a title loan on her car to post Tamsin's ten-thousand-dollar bond."
"Of course she did," Theron muttered bitterly. "Enablers to the very end."
"No, that's not why I'm here," Jaren stammered, thrusting the printouts across the dining table toward us. "My lawyer subpoenaed Tamsin's full credit profile and bank records this afternoon as part of the emergency discovery for the custody hearing tomorrow."
I looked down at the documents. They were credit bureau reports from all three major agencies.
"What am I looking at, Jaren?" I asked, scanning the endless rows of account numbers.
"Look at the second page," Jaren whispered, his voice shaking with terror. "Look at the social security numbers tied to the secondary identity."
I turned the page.
Under the authorized user list, Tamsin had opened four separate high-interest signature loans and seven revolving credit lines totaling over eighty-five thousand dollars over the last three years.
None of them were in Jaren's name.
None of them were in Tamsin's name.
"She used Bryer's social security number?" I asked, horrified.
"Keep reading, Maren," Jaren choked out, pointing a trembling finger to the very bottom of the report. "Not Bryer's."
My eyes locked onto the primary identity block.
*Primary Borrower Name: Maya Elizabeth Vance.*
*Date of Birth: June 14, 2012.*
*Current Outstanding Balance: $142,680.*
*Collateral Pledged: Trust Deed — 1442 Elmwood Crest (Primary Residence).*
My breath seized in my throat. Maya's name. Maya's social security number. And the property pledged as collateral was my family home—the home Theron and I had built, using a trust document that Tamsin must have copied during the weekend she house-sat for us two summers ago.
Suddenly, my phone rang.
The screen lit up with an incoming FaceTime call from an unknown number.
I hit accept.
The screen flickered to life. Tamsin sat in the passenger seat of my mother's car, laughing hysterically into the camera, her eyes wide, wild, and completely unhinged. Behind her in the driver’s seat, my mother was staring straight ahead, tears streaming down her cheeks.
"Did you read the mail, big sister?" Tamsin cackled, holding up a manila folder filled with notary stamps. "Did you really think this was about a four-thousand-dollar violin? Look outside your window tomorrow morning. The foreclosure marshal has our signature on the default notice."
May you like
The screen went black.
Before I could breathe, a loud, heavy knock rattled against our front door.
