CHAPTER 4
1495 Words
COME ALONE. ASK NO QUESTIONS.
I read the message twice before locking my phone.
“What did they say?” Maya asked.
I slipped the phone into my bag. “They offered the full amount.”
Her eyes narrowed. “In exchange for what?”
“One night.”
“No.”
“Maya—”
“No, Elena. Delete the message.”
I looked through the glass wall toward my father’s room. He lay beneath the white sheet, surrounded by machines that did not care whether I was afraid.
“The deposit is due tomorrow.”
“That does not mean you should sell yourself to a stranger.”
“I haven’t agreed to anything.”
“But you are thinking about it.”
I could not deny it.
Maya took my hand. “There must be another way.”
My fingers brushed the folded Vale Holdings form inside my bag.
Maybe there was.
“I need to find out what my father owes the company.”
“He warned you not to sign anything.”
“I won’t sign. I’ll ask questions.”
“And if they refuse to answer?”
“Then I’ll make them answer.”
I left Maya beside my father’s room and returned to reception.
Thomas Bell was gone, but the receptionist gave me the number printed on his card. I called immediately.
He answered after three rings.
“Thomas Bell speaking.”
“This is Elena Cross.”
There was a pause. “Miss Cross.”
“I need the details of my father’s debt.”
“As I explained, the file is restricted.”
“How much does he owe?”
“I cannot discuss that without his written permission.”
“He is unconscious.”
“Then you will have to wait.”
“He may be dead before he wakes.”
Mr Bell became quiet.
I pressed the phone harder against my ear.
“You came to the hospital because his name triggered an alert. You told me the debt was added after he left the company. You know something is wrong.”
“I said it was unusual.”
“Then help me.”
“I could lose my job.”
“My father could lose his life.”
Another silence followed.
When he spoke again, his voice was lower.
“Go to the old Vale Holdings employee portal.”
“What portal?”
He gave me a website address.
“Enter your father’s full name and the last six numbers on his benefits form.”
“I don’t have a benefits form.”
“It should be attached to the hospital document I gave you.”
I opened my bag and pulled out the papers. A number had been printed in small letters near the bottom.
“I found it.”
“The portal may show the basic claim. That is all I can tell you.”
“Mr Bell—”
The call ended.
I sat on a bench and entered the website address.
The page carried the silver Vale Holdings symbol. Beneath it were two empty boxes.
I typed my father’s name and the six numbers.
ACCESS DENIED.
I tried again.
The same message appeared.
Then I noticed a small instruction beneath the second box.
Former employees must include year of separation.
I did not know when my father had left the company.
I called Uncle Peter.
“What year did Dad stop working for Vale Holdings?”
“Why are you asking?”
“Please, Uncle.”
He sighed. “I think it was the year after your mother died.”
“What year exactly?”
“Nineteen years ago.”
I entered the year.
The page opened.
My father’s photograph appeared on the screen. He looked younger, stronger and happier. He wore a dark suit and stood before the Vale Holdings symbol.
Beneath the photograph were his employment details.
Daniel Michael Cross.
Position: Senior Financial Analyst.
Status: Resigned.
My father had never told me he held a senior position.
I scrolled down.
A red notice covered the next section.
OUTSTANDING FINANCIAL CLAIM.
My heart began to race.
I touched the notice.
A list appeared.
The company accused my father of receiving money from a private business account, hiding company documents and causing a major financial loss.
The amount beside the claim made me cover my mouth.
It was greater than the hospital bill.
Greater than the value of our house.
Greater than anything my father could have earned in his entire life.
I searched for the date.
The claim had been created eleven months after he resigned.
Below it was a second notice.
DEBT TRANSFERRED TO ESTATE AND LEGAL HEIRS UPON DEATH.
I read the sentence again.
If my father died, the debt would pass to me.
My phone almost slipped from my hand.
I opened the document attached to the claim. Most of the page had been covered by black lines, but one signature remained visible at the bottom.
Daniel Cross.
I knew my father’s handwriting.
The signature looked like his, but something was wrong. The letters were too clean, too carefully shaped.
A note beside it stated that he had admitted responsibility and agreed to repay the money.
My father had never mentioned any of this.
I took screenshots before the portal suddenly refreshed.
ACCESS REVOKED.
The page disappeared.
My phone rang immediately.
Thomas Bell’s number appeared.
“Did you open the file?” he asked.
“Yes.”
“You need to close it.”
“Someone already blocked me.”
“Do not save or share anything you saw.”
“Why?”
“Because the company system has marked your access as a security breach.”
“You gave me the website.”
“I gave you a way to view the public record. You opened a restricted attachment.”
“It opened when I touched it.”
“Listen carefully. Vale Legal Affairs will know someone accessed the file.”
“Good. Maybe they will finally speak to me.”
“This is not a game, Miss Cross.”
“Neither is putting a false debt in my father’s name.”
“You cannot prove it is false.”
“The claim was created after he left.”
“That does not mean the events happened after he left.”
“His signature looks copied.”
Mr Bell inhaled sharply.
“You need to stop asking questions over the phone.”
“Then meet me.”
“I cannot.”
“Who created the claim?”
“I don’t know.”
“You said the order came from Victor Vale’s office.”
“I have already said too much.”
“Did Victor Vale frame my father?”
The line went quiet.
“Mr Bell?”
When he answered, his voice was barely above a whisper.
“Ask your father what happened to the missing company account.”
“What account?”
“The Isabella account.”
My breath caught.
“Isabella was my mother’s name.”
“I know.”
The call ended.
I ran back to my father’s room.
Maya stood as I approached.
“He woke up a few minutes ago,” she said. “The nurse says you can see him briefly.”
I entered before she finished speaking.
My father turned his head weakly when I sat beside him.
“Dad, you were a senior financial analyst at Vale Holdings.”
His eyes closed.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It was another life.”
“They say you stole money.”
His eyes opened again.
“I didn’t.”
“The debt is more than our house could ever pay.”
“I know.”
“If you die, it passes to me.”
Fear crossed his face.
“They were never supposed to find you.”
“Who?”
“The Vale family.”
“What is the Isabella account?”
His breathing stopped for one frightening second.
“Where did you hear that name?”
“Thomas Bell.”
My father struggled to sit up.
I placed a hand on his shoulder.
“Dad, tell me the truth.”
He looked toward the door, then pulled me closer.
“The money was not stolen,” he whispered. “It belonged to your mother.”
“What money?”
“The money that built Vale Holdings.”
I stared at him.
“That is impossible.”
“No.” His eyes filled with tears. “The impossible part is how they erased her and made the theft look like mine.”
My phone vibrated inside my bag.
A new email had arrived from Vale Legal Affairs.
The subject read:
FINAL DEBT RECOVERY NOTICE: ELENA CROSS
I opened it.
Attached was a document carrying my father’s copied signature.
Below it was another signature.
Mine.
Dated eighteen years ago, when I was only six years old.
- Writer
