Chapter 5 - The Signature Nobody Wrote
By eight the following morning, Miriam had assembled a small team of legal and financial specialists.
Chadworth had slept less than three hours.
He had spent much of the night sitting in Elena's old reading chair, staring at the papers that supposedly bore his signature.
The signature was convincing.
Its final stroke curved upward in his familiar style. The capital letters were formed exactly as he usually wrote them, and even the slight spacing between his first and last names appeared accurate.
Someone had studied his handwriting carefully.
But he knew he had never authorized Sabina to control his daughters or their trusts.
He looked across the conference table.
"How could she produce something like this?"
Miriam folded her hands.
"There are several possibilities. She may have copied your signature from another document or obtained an electronic image of it. We are arranging independent examination."
"Could she use it to take the girls?"
"Not simply by presenting a piece of paper. Parental authority isn't transferred that easily, and this document raises serious questions. But false paperwork can still create confusion, delay, and intimidation."
Chadworth thought of Lorelai's purple notebook.
Sabina hadn't needed the document to be legally effective.
She had only needed two frightened children to believe it was.
That realization made his stomach turn.
"What about the trusts?"
Miriam opened the second document.
"The girls have substantial funds established by you and Elena. Those arrangements have protections, including independent fiduciary oversight."
"And Sabina wants access."
"Apparently. This document attempts to change certain administrative powers following your marriage."
Chadworth frowned.
"She told me she hated discussing money."
Miriam's expression remained neutral.
"People sometimes say things that don't reflect their intentions."
He looked away.
He remembered Sabina refusing expensive gifts during the early months of their relationship.
She had insisted that love mattered more than wealth.
Later, she began discussing charitable projects, family foundations, and how important it was for a future wife to be trusted.
He had regarded those conversations as evidence of her commitment.
Now he wondered how much of their relationship had been carefully staged.
Meanwhile, life upstairs continued.
Lorelai had school assignments to complete.
Gemma wanted to know whether she could visit the park.
Rosamund was preparing breakfast while trying to behave as though the house hadn't turned upside down.
Chadworth found her arranging fruit beside the kitchen island.
"Rosamund, do you have a moment?"
"Of course, sir."
He looked toward the children, who were sitting near the breakfast nook.
"Somewhere private."
She followed him into the small library.
He closed the door halfway, leaving it visibly open.
"I want to ask how you're doing."
Rosamund appeared surprised.
"Me?"
"Yes."
She gave a faint smile.
"I'm all right."
Chadworth waited.
After several seconds, her smile disappeared.
"Actually, I'm not."
He nodded.
"Tell me."
Rosamund looked toward the window.
"I haven't slept properly in weeks. Every time I heard Miss Sabina's footsteps, I wondered what she was going to accuse me of next."
Chadworth listened.
"She checked my work constantly. Sometimes she'd move things after I'd cleaned a room, then claim I'd been careless."
"Why didn't you report it formally?"
"I tried."
He felt an uncomfortable tightening in his chest.
"To whom?"
"The household administrator. I sent two messages asking for a meeting."
Chadworth frowned.
"I never heard about them."
Rosamund looked down.
"Miss Sabina handled staff complaints."
He remembered authorizing precisely that arrangement.
A bitter realization followed.
He had effectively placed the person causing the problem in charge of deciding whether complaints about her would ever reach him.
"I'm changing that," he said.
Rosamund nodded, but she didn't appear especially relieved.
Chadworth understood why.
She had no reason to believe a promise would matter until she saw it kept.
"There's something else," he continued. "You don't have to remain here because you feel responsible for the girls. If you need time away, paid leave, or a different working arrangement, we'll discuss what you want."
Rosamund looked at him carefully.
"And if I choose to stay?"
"Then you'll be treated fairly, with clear responsibilities and someone independent to hear concerns."
She took a slow breath.
"I'd like to stay for now. The girls have already lost so much."
He nodded.
"But I don't want them to think they owe me anything," she added.
Chadworth looked at her.
"Neither do I."
That afternoon, a child therapist named Dr. Naomi Ellis visited the mansion.
She was a calm woman in her forties who specialized in helping children recover from coercive and emotionally harmful environments.
She met with Chadworth first.
"Children in Lorelai and Gemma's position often learn to anticipate adults' moods," she explained. "They may apologize when they haven't done anything wrong or hide their feelings because they believe honesty creates danger."
Chadworth looked down.
"I've noticed that."
"The important thing now is consistency. Don't force them to describe every incident. Don't make them responsible for reassuring you."
He nodded.
"And don't confuse one good day with complete recovery."
He looked toward the staircase.
"How do I become someone they can trust again?"
"By listening when the answer is uncomfortable. By keeping small promises. And by allowing them to have feelings you cannot immediately fix."
The advice sounded deceptively simple.
Yet Chadworth knew it would require him to change habits he had developed over decades.
He was accustomed to solving problems quickly.
His daughters needed something different.
They needed him to stay present while problems took time to heal.
Later, Dr. Ellis spent time with the girls, allowing them to choose their own activities and speak without pressure.
Chadworth waited downstairs.
He resisted the urge to ask what they had said.
When the session ended, Dr. Ellis offered only general guidance, respecting the children's privacy.
"Your daughters need predictable routines and reassurance that the adults around them will handle adult problems," she said.
Chadworth agreed.
For the first time since returning from his fake trip, he felt that the family might have a path forward.
Then Graham entered the study.
"Sir, Miriam asked me to bring you something."
He handed Chadworth a photocopy of the trust document.
One signature had been marked in red.
Chadworth recognized the name immediately.
Victor Kline.
Chief financial officer of the Prescott Family Foundation.
Victor had worked for Chadworth for eleven years.
He had overseen charitable grants, educational scholarships, and millions of dollars intended to support disadvantaged children.
Chadworth stared at the page.
"What is Victor's name doing here?"
Graham swallowed.
"Ms. Price believes he may have participated in preparing or approving the financial paperwork."
Chadworth looked toward the window.
The foundation had been Elena's dream.
She had wanted their wealth to give children opportunities they might otherwise never receive.
If someone had exploited that work, the betrayal would reach far beyond his own household.
He picked up his phone.
"Get me Victor Kline."
Graham hesitated.
"Sir, there's something else."
"What?"
"Victor didn't come to the office this morning."
"Why not?"
"Nobody knows."
Chadworth looked back at the document.
May you like
Then Graham delivered the words that changed the direction of the entire investigation.
"And according to the finance department, more than two million dollars from the foundation can no longer be accounted for."
