Chapter 6 - THE UNBORN BENEFICIARY
I stared at the date printed beneath the beneficiary designation.
It was the date the clinic later used to estimate when my baby had been conceived.
My first instinct was to reach for the paper, but my hand stopped halfway.
“How could this exist three months ago?” I asked.
Evelyn’s voice remained calm. “That is what we need to determine.”
Dominic looked at me. “You said you found out you were pregnant last week.”
“I did.”
“So whoever created this knew before you did.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I know.”
The quiet certainty in his voice unsettled me.
He was no longer looking at the documents. He was looking at the date.
“Dominic,” I said, “what happened three months ago?”
He ran a hand over his face.
“Nothing related to a child. At least, not that I knew.”
Evelyn gathered the papers into a neat stack.
“The designation is attached to a private investment account. It doesn’t appear in the ordinary family records. The account was opened under the Moretti Family Outreach Foundation, but the beneficiary language is separate.”
“Can we access it?” Dominic asked.
“Not without determining who authorized it.”
“You said my signature was forged.”
“I said the signature on the transfer documents appears inconsistent with the signature on the original account agreement. We need a forensic review.”
I looked at the pages again.
My name sat beneath the words secondary administrator.
The signature was close enough to mine to make my stomach turn.
“I never agreed to administer anything,” I said.
“Perhaps you were listed without your knowledge,” Evelyn replied.
“Why would anyone choose me?”
Neither of them answered.
The rain had thickened against the window, blurring the city into gray shapes. I thought of the Moretti estate, its long corridors and locked rooms, the family portraits that watched every visitor as though they were being measured.
I had spent five years inside that family and still did not know where its secrets were kept.
Dominic stood.
“I’m going to speak to my mother.”
“No,” I said.
He paused.
“Don’t go to Margaret angry. If she’s involved, she’ll deny everything. If she isn’t, she may destroy whatever she can find.”
His eyes met mine.
“You think she would do that?”
“I don’t know what she’s capable of anymore.”
The answer seemed to hurt him, but he didn’t argue.
Evelyn closed the folder.
“I’ll request a full accounting and preserve every record. Dominic, do not confront anyone until we know more.”
He nodded.
When we left the office, he walked beside me toward the elevator. We maintained a careful distance between us, not touching, not speaking. The space felt deliberate, like a boundary drawn in chalk.
At the lobby, he stopped.
“May I see you tomorrow?”
“For what?”
“To discuss the pregnancy.”
“We can use Evelyn.”
“I know.”
“Then use her.”
His expression tightened, but he accepted it.
“I want to be involved.”
“You don’t get to decide that involvement begins when it becomes convenient.”
“I know.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because I don’t have the right words yet.”
For the first time since I had known him, Dominic Moretti looked like a man who understood that an apology could not purchase forgiveness.
I walked away without answering.
That evening, Clara made pasta while I sat at the kitchen table, watching rain gather on the glass doors.
She had learned not to ask me questions the moment I came through the door. Instead, she placed a bowl in front of me and waited until I took the first bite.
“Evelyn found something,” I said.
Clara turned down the stove.
“What kind of something?”
“A foundation account. Money moved into it under my name.”
“Your name?”
“As an administrator. There’s also a beneficiary designation for an unborn child.”
Clara’s expression sharpened.
“Your child?”
“The document was filed before I knew I was pregnant. Maybe before I was pregnant at all.”
“Who knew?”
“I don’t know.”
She sat across from me.
“What did Dominic say?”
“He said he didn’t authorize the transfers.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I don’t know.”
Clara studied me carefully.
“You’re allowed to believe one part of what he says and doubt another.”
I looked down at my plate.
“That’s the problem. I used to believe everything. Now I don’t know how to believe anything.”
“You don’t have to rush.”
“I’m afraid there’s something about me I don’t know.”
Clara reached across the table and covered my hand.
“There isn’t.”
“You can’t be sure.”
“I can be sure of this: whatever someone put on a form, it doesn’t change who you are.”
Her words settled over me, warm and steady.
The next morning, Evelyn called before nine.
“The bank has agreed to release the preliminary records,” she said. “There’s a meeting scheduled for this afternoon.”
“With whom?”
“An officer from the private banking division and the foundation’s registered accountant.”
“Does Dominic know?”
“He’ll attend.”
I almost declined.
May you like
Then I remembered the beneficiary designation and the date.
“I’ll be there.”
