Chapter 5 - THE SIGNATURE THAT WAS NEVER HERS
Z
Delia had never imagined needing a lawyer.
Lawyers belonged to television dramas and people who owned houses with gates. They did not belong to women who counted laundry quarters before payday.
Nevertheless, on Monday morning, she entered the office of attorney Claire Donovan carrying a folder of documents.
Claire had been recommended by a community legal assistance organization, not by Adrian.
That mattered to Delia.
She wanted advice from someone who wasn't loyal to the Moretti family.
Claire studied the property agreement, the photograph, and several archived filings.
Then she asked, “Did your mother ever receive income from the Copper Lantern?”
“Not that I know.”
“Do you remember her discussing an ownership interest?”
“No.”
Claire wrote something down.
“Her rights would depend on the agreement and what happened afterward. We need the full chain of documents.”
Delia nodded.
Then Claire examined a photocopy Adrian's office had provided.
Her expression changed.
“Interesting.”
Delia leaned forward.
“What?”
“This document appears to show your mother releasing her interest eight years ago.”
Delia frowned.
“Eight years ago?”
“Yes.”
“That can't be right.”
“Why not?”
“Mom was hospitalized that month. She was recovering from surgery and barely leaving the apartment.”
Claire studied the date.
“Did she have the legal capacity to sign documents?”
“I believe so. But I know she wasn't at the bar that day.”
Claire looked down again.
“Then we should verify where this document was signed and whether the signature is genuine.”
Delia stared at the familiar looping letters.
Evelyn Marsh.
It looked almost right.
But the final h curved differently.
Her mother had always ended her signature with a tiny upward flick.
This one ended flat.
“That's not how Mom signed her name,” Delia whispered.
Claire didn't immediately agree.
She simply said, “Let's obtain authenticated examples and have the document examined.”
That evening, Delia returned home to find Grandma Rose sitting beside the kitchen window.
Owen was at the table constructing a cardboard model of the solar system.
“Delia!” he shouted. “Did you know Neptune has winds faster than airplanes?”
“Now I do.”
He grinned.
She kissed his forehead and placed her bag on the counter.
Rose watched her.
“How was the lawyer?”
“Interesting.”
“That sounds expensive.”
“Not as expensive as Wade would like.”
Rose smiled faintly.
Delia sat beside her.
“Grandma, why didn't Mom tell us she owned part of the bar?”
Rose stared at her tea.
“Because she thought it had been taken away.”
Delia went still.
“What happened?”
Rose folded her hands.
“Patrick Coleman trusted your mother. Wade never liked that. He believed the business belonged entirely to his family.”
“Did he threaten her?”
“Not openly at first.”
Rose looked toward Owen.
Then lowered her voice.
“When Patrick became ill, Wade began managing the money. Evelyn noticed things weren't adding up.”
“What things?”
“Missing supplier payments. Cash receipts. Invoices that didn't make sense.”
Delia felt a terrible familiarity.
Her mother had been working exhausting shifts and raising children, yet she'd still noticed that something was wrong.
“What did she do?”
“She asked questions.”
“And?”
“Wade told her she was confused. Then he claimed Patrick had decided to buy out her interest.”
Delia swallowed.
“Did she believe him?”
“No. But she was already ill, and she didn't have the money to fight.”
Rose wiped her eyes.
“She told me she wanted to spend whatever time she had left with you children, not in court.”
Delia looked toward Owen.
He was carefully painting Saturn's rings.
He didn't know the family history unfolding beside him.
And Delia wanted it to stay that way a little longer.
The next afternoon, Delia returned to the Copper Lantern.
She didn't enter.
She stood across the street and watched Wade unlock the doors.
He appeared cheerful.
He greeted a delivery driver.
He laughed with two regular customers.
The man looked exactly as he had before firing her.
That was what made her angry.
For him, her lost wages and humiliation had been an ordinary evening.
For her, they might mean missing rent.
Then Wade looked across the street.
He saw Delia.
His smile vanished.
He crossed toward her.
“You've got nerve coming back here.”
Delia stood still.
“I'm not on your property.”
He glanced toward her handbag.
“What's that?”
“My belongings.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Have you been talking to people?”
“I'm allowed to talk to an attorney.”
His expression changed.
For the first time, Wade looked uncertain.
“Your mother should've learned to leave things alone.”
The words struck harder than an insult.
Delia stared.
“What did you just say?”
He stepped back.
“Nothing.”
“No. You mentioned my mother.”
Wade glanced toward the bar.
Then lowered his voice.
“You don't know what you're getting into.”
Delia swallowed.
“Then tell me.”
He gave a humorless laugh.
“Ask your new billionaire friend.”
He turned away.
And as he walked back across the street, Delia noticed something she hadn't seen before.
A white delivery truck was parked behind the Copper Lantern.
Its rear doors were closed.
On the side was a blue compass symbol.
The same symbol appeared in one of the invoices Grandma Rose had saved from Evelyn's paperwork.
Delia took a photograph of the truck from the public sidewalk.
May you like
Then called Claire.
“I think my mother was investigating more than stolen wages.”
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