Chapter 6 - THE FIRST FORGERY
The pickup was not the only thing my family tried to put my name on.
That came out two days later.
My attorney, Priya Shah, requested the insurance file after I told her Dad knew too much about how to stage the story.
She found an amended driver declaration submitted three weeks earlier.
It listed me as the primary driver.
That part was true.
Then it listed Mateo as an occasional permitted operator.
That part was not.
The signature approving the change looked like mine.
It was not.
My father had uploaded it through the online portal using an old family email recovery question he should not have known.
He had been preparing access before the crash.
Maybe not for a hit-and-run.
Maybe for convenience.
Maybe because Mateo had no valid license and Dad thought paperwork could bend if family needed it to.
But once the crash happened, that forged declaration became the foundation of the lie they wanted me to tell.
If I said I was driving, insurance would respond differently.
If I confessed quickly, Mateo might be separated from the vehicle.
If I appeared shaken and compliant, my family could call it panic.
The plan had holes.
Criminal plans often do.
But they had counted on the one thing that had always worked.
Me absorbing impact.
Priya laid the documents across her conference table.
“Your father did not improvise everything that night.”
I stared at the false signature.
My name, bent into service.
“How long?”
“We’re checking.”
There were other changes.
An address update request.
A copy of the truck registration pulled from an old family file.
A failed attempt to add Dad as an authorized representative.
Every small act looked administrative until placed together.
Pattern noted.
Dad had been turning my truck into something the family could use while telling me I was selfish for enforcing boundaries.
That was familiar.
Mateo used things.
Dad justified it.
Mom softened the language.
And I was expected to keep the peace by calling theft a misunderstanding.
Priya leaned back.
“Elena, because of your position, this needs to stay extremely clean.”
“I know.”
“No direct contact. No family meetings. No hallway negotiations. Evidence goes through channels.”
I nodded.
For once, my badge did not make this easier.
It made the standard higher.
May you like
Good.
If my family wanted me to lie because of who I was, then who I was would be the reason everything was documented perfectly.
