Chapter 17 - THE FORGED SIGNATURE
Tessa stared at the affidavit.
“I did not sign that.”
The document claimed she had witnessed me screaming at Noah, driving drunk, and threatening suicide.
Every accusation was designed to turn grief into evidence.
The judge had denied immediate removal but scheduled a hearing for nine the next morning.
Ortiz examined the signature.
“It’s good.”
Tessa’s face hardened.
“Because Vivienne practiced it.”
We all looked at her.
“She used to sign delivery logs for me when I was cooking or bathing Noah.”
At the hospital, Vivienne admitted it.
“My father made me copy Tessa’s signature months ago.”
“Why?” I asked.
“He said we needed backup if you refused to marry me.”
The sentence landed like a stone.
“Marry you?”
She nodded.
“Once we were married, he planned to use your mental-health file to push you out of the foundation. I would hold your proxy.”
“And Noah?”
Her eyes filled.
“He was supposed to go to a private residential program.”
“He’s one.”
“I know.”
Tessa’s voice was ice.
“What kind of residential program takes a one-year-old?”
Vivienne looked away.
That was answer enough.
The next morning, the judge reviewed the camera footage, the forged affidavit, and Vivienne’s sworn statement.
The custody petition was dismissed in twelve minutes.
Then the judge ordered the clerk to forward the forged filing to federal prosecutors.
Outside the courthouse, reporters surrounded us.
I kept Noah’s face covered against my shoulder.
Tessa stayed close.
A reporter shouted, “Mr. Mercer, do you blame Ms. Vale for your wife’s death?”
I didn’t answer.
Then a woman pushed through the crowd.
She was maybe sixty, shaking, holding a yellow envelope.
“You don’t know me,” she said. “I was the nurse on Amelia’s last case.”
My heart stopped.
“What case?”
She handed me the envelope.
“Your wife wasn’t investigating only the babies.”
May you like
Inside was a photograph of Amelia.
She was pregnant.
