Chapter 17: The Investigation
The next morning, I called my lawyers.
"Find those accounts," I said.
"They don't exist," my lawyer replied.
"Then where did he get the money for that gala?"
Silence.
"I'll look into it."
"Look harder."
Two days later, my lawyer called back.
"You were right. There were accounts. Hidden. Opened three years ago under a different name."
"Whose name?"
"Yours."
I felt the world tilt.
"What?"
"He opened them in your name. Used your social security number. Your signature. Everything."
"He forged my signature?"
"Looks like it. And the money—it's been moved. Transferred to a new account under his control."
"How much?"
"About twelve million."
I sat down.
"He's been planning this for years."
"It seems that way."
"Why didn't I know?"
"Because you trusted him."
I closed my eyes.
"So what do we do?"
"We can sue. We can press charges. But it'll take time. And in the meantime—"
"In the meantime, he has money."
"Yes."
I hung up.
I didn't cry.
I didn't scream.
I just sat there, staring at the wall.
Andrew had played me.
May you like
Again.
And I'd let him.
