Chapter 4 - A Signature I Never Made

"I was home with Emma that day," I said. "She had a fever. Daniel brought us popsicles."
Dad nodded. "Keep that memory. We may need records to establish where you were."
The forged signature sat in front of me like a second injury, one nobody could see beneath a sweater.
The document claimed I had agreed to guarantee part of a commercial refinancing using income and assets I controlled. Its language was dense, but the point was simple: if the company failed, creditors could come looking for me.
"Can they take our house?" I asked.
"A forged guaranty shouldn't bind you," Dad said. "But it still has to be challenged. My lawyers are notifying the appropriate people. No one should assume a document disappears because we say it's false."
"Why didn't you tell me he was borrowing from you?"
"I wasn't the original lender. Bennett Capital bought a portfolio of distressed loans. Harrington's was in it. I didn't even know until the review team flagged your name."
Dad had spent his life buying struggling companies, fixing them, and refusing to put his picture in magazines. Linda thought he owned a modest distribution warehouse. I had allowed her to believe it. I never wanted my father to be the reason anyone respected me.
Now I hated that Daniel had learned the truth before I had.
"Did you tell him you were investigating?"
"I told him there were discrepancies and that you would need to speak to counsel. He said he'd tell you personally."
The nurse brought Emma back with a glittery snowflake sticker. She climbed into Dad's lap, watching us with solemn eyes.
"Grandpa, is Mommy in trouble?"
"No, peanut. Grown-ups made bad choices. Your mom didn't cause them."
My phone rang. Daniel.
I let it go to voicemail. He called again and again until a message appeared.
PLEASE DON'T SIGN A STATEMENT UNTIL WE TALK. MOM HAS A VIDEO.
I stared at the last five words.
May you like
There had been a photographer at the house for Christmas portraits.
What exactly had Linda recorded?