Chapter 5: The Account in My Name
My father's phone remained between us.
The transaction sat on the screen like a sentence.
*$42,000 TRANSFERRED.*
Recipient: Jordan Williams.
I stared at my own name.
“I don't have an account like that.””
My father nodded.
“I know.””
Ryan stepped off the porch.
“Marcus, don't touch anything.””
My father turned.
“Why?””
“Because if that account was opened using Jordan's identity, someone had access to his documents.””
I felt a cold rush through me.
“My driver's license.””
“What?””
I looked at my father.
“My driver's license was missing last month.””
Claire looked at me.
“You told me that.””
“Yeah.””
“I thought you lost it.””
“I thought I did.””
Ryan stared at Claire.
“You took it.””
Claire shook her head.
“No.””
“You had access to his room.””
“So did you.””
Ryan's face tightened.
“I didn't take his license.””
My father stepped between them.
“Enough.””
He looked at me.
“Where is your passport?””
“In my desk.””
“Go check.””
I went inside.
My hands were numb.
I ran upstairs.
My bedroom looked exactly as I'd left it.
The bed was unmade.
My textbooks were stacked beside the window.
A half-empty bottle of water sat on my desk.
I opened the drawer.
The passport was there.
I exhaled.
Then I noticed something else.
A white envelope.
It wasn't mine.
I picked it up.
My name was printed across the front.
*JORDAN WILLIAMS*
Underneath it was an address I didn't recognize.
I opened it.
Inside was a bank statement.
The account number matched the one on my father's phone.
I stared at the balance.
*$42,318.76*
My knees nearly gave out.
At the bottom of the statement was a note:
*Account opened: 11 months ago.*
I hadn't known about it for eleven months.
I flipped through the pages.
There were deposits.
Small ones at first.
$300.
$750.
$1,200.
Then larger amounts.
The last deposit was $27,000.
My father's stolen money.
But that wasn't the worst part.
The account had been opened when I was eighteen.
And the signature on the form looked almost like mine.
Almost.
I took pictures with my cracked phone.
Then I heard footsteps.
I turned.
Maya stood in the doorway.
“What is it?””
I held up the statement.
“This.””
She walked closer.
Her face changed.
“That's the account.””
“You knew about it?””
“No.””
“Then how did you know?””
“Ryan told me there was an account.””
I stared at her.
“When?””
“The night I heard them arguing.””
I lowered the papers.
“What else did you hear?””
Maya hesitated.
“Jordan…”
“What else?””
She stepped inside and closed the door.
“Mom said she couldn't keep using her own account.””
My heart stopped.
“Why?””
“Because Dad would notice.””
I stared at the statement.
“So they used my name.””
Maya nodded.
“But Ryan said there was another person helping them.””
“Who?””
She looked toward the hallway.
“I don't know.””
I folded the statement.
“We need to show Dad.””
We walked downstairs together.
My father was still in the study with Ryan.
Claire was sitting on the couch.
I handed my father the statement.
He read it once.
Then again.
“Where did you find this?””
“My room.””
His eyes hardened.
“Who had access to your room?””
Claire answered immediately.
“I did.””
I looked at her.
She stood.
“I cleaned it.””
“You opened my desk?””
“I've been cleaning that room for years.””
“Did you take my license?””
“No.””
Ryan interrupted.
“She's lying.””
Claire turned.
“You don't know that.””
“I know you had the copies.””
“What copies?””
“Jordan's college paperwork.””
My father looked at Ryan.
“How do you know that?””
Ryan hesitated.
“Because Claire showed them to me.””
Claire's face twisted.
“You're trying to save yourself.””
“I don't need to.””
Ryan pointed at the statement.
“That account wasn't created by Claire.””
My father frowned.
“Then who created it?””
Ryan looked at me.
“Someone who knew Jordan's Social Security number.””
Silence.
My stomach tightened.
“How many people have that?””
My father began counting.
“College. Employer. Bank.””
Maya whispered, “Mom had it.””
Claire snapped, “So did your father.””
I looked at Dad.
He shook his head.
“I never opened an account in your name.””
Ryan stepped closer.
“Marcus, remember when Jordan applied for his first student loan?””
“Yes.””
“Who helped him fill out the paperwork?””
My father looked at Claire.
Claire went pale.
“You helped him.””
“I was his stepmother.””
“You had all his information.””
“So did you.””
Ryan shook his head.
“I didn't need it.””
My father looked at me.
“Jordan, when did you first notice your license missing?””
“About a month ago.””
“And did you replace it?””
“Yes.””
“Where was the old one?””
“I don't know.””
Ryan suddenly looked toward Claire.
“Wait.””
Everyone turned.
He pointed at the envelope.
“Look at the date.””
I checked.
The statement had been mailed three weeks ago.
But the envelope had never been opened.
Someone had hidden it.
In my room.
My father looked at Claire.
“Why would a bank send Jordan's statement here if nobody knew about the account?””
Claire didn't answer.
My father picked up the envelope.
“Because someone expected him to find it.””
The room went silent.
Maya whispered, “What?””
My father stared at the statement.
“This isn't just an account.””
“What do you mean?”” I asked.
He pointed at the transaction history.
“Look at the withdrawals.””
I leaned closer.
Every withdrawal had been made in cash.
Different locations.
Different dates.
But the final line was different.
*TRANSFER: $42,000*
My father frowned.
“The account only had $42,318.””
I nodded.
“So?””
He looked at me.
“Someone emptied almost everything.””
Ryan stepped closer.
“And transferred it to Jordan.””
“Why?””
Ryan didn't answer.
My father looked at him.
“Why?””
Ryan's voice dropped.
“To make it look like Jordan stole the money.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I stared at the account.
Someone had created a secret account in my name.
Deposited stolen money into it.
Then transferred the entire balance.
And somehow, the transfer had happened thirty minutes ago.
My father reached for his phone.
“We're calling the bank.””
Claire stood.
“Marcus, wait.””
He turned.
“I can explain.””
“You've said that all night.””
“This isn't what you think.””
“Then tell me what it is.””
She looked at me.
“I was trying to protect you.””
“From what?””
Her eyes filled with tears.
“From something your father doesn't know.””
My father stared at her.
“What don't I know?””
Claire opened her mouth.
Before she could speak, Maya suddenly screamed.
“Mom!””
We all turned.
Maya was staring at the television.
The news had just interrupted the program.
A reporter stood outside a police station.
A photograph appeared beside her.
My photograph.
The caption beneath it read:
*LOCAL COLLEGE STUDENT SUSPECTED IN FINANCIAL FRAUD INVESTIGATION*
My blood turned cold.
The reporter continued.
“Authorities are currently looking for nineteen-year-old Jordan Williams…”
My father grabbed the remote.
The screen went black.
Nobody spoke.
Then his phone rang.
He answered.
“Hello?””
His expression changed.
He looked directly at me.
“Jordan…”
May you like
“What?””
“The police are outside.””
