There it was, the lie that ended everything, and whoever sent it clearly wanted me to know it had always been a lie.
I sat there staring at the screen until my eyes started to burn. The document was scarily good. The letterhead looked perfect, the numbers lined up exactly right, and the date stamp sat in just the right spot. If someone you trusted had handed this to you and said “look,” you would’ve believed every word, because it was built that way.
But it had my name on it, and I’ve signed my name ten thousand times in my life. The loop on the second letter was off, just a little. The tail on the last letter curved to the right, mine always swept left, without even thinking about it.
The pressure in the middle strokes was too steady and careful like someone had studied my signature o
