Chapter 3 - THE CO-SIGNER
Julian called eleven times before Clara answered.
She had driven to a coffee shop five miles away because she did not trust herself to go home yet.
“What?”
“Where are you?”
“That is not the important question.”
“Clara, Mom is having a panic attack.”
“Then she should breathe.”
“Can you stop doing this?”
Clara almost laughed.
“Doing what?”
“Making everything nuclear.”
“You applied for a loan in my name.”
Silence.
Then:
“It wasn’t finalized.”
Clara stared through the windshield.
“That’s your defense?”
“I was going to tell you.”
“When?”
“When we knew whether it was approved.”
That was somehow worse.
“You were going to tell me after a lender agreed to give us money I never requested?”
“It wasn’t for us.”
Clara closed her eyes.
Of course.
“Who?”
Another pause.
Then:
“Chloe.”
Clara already knew.
She just needed to hear him say it.
“What does she need twenty-five thousand dollars for?”
“She’s having some business problems.”
“Then Chloe applies for a business loan.”
“She can’t qualify.”
“Then she doesn’t borrow twenty-five thousand dollars.”
Julian exhaled sharply.
“You don’t understand the situation.”
“I literally evaluate fraud for a living.”
“This isn’t fraud.”
“You used my identity without permission.”
“I’m your husband.”
The sentence sat between them.
Clara’s voice dropped.
“What does being my husband authorize you to sign?”
Julian did not answer.
She ended the call.
Then froze her credit with all three bureaus.
Changed passwords.
Locked every card she could lock remotely.
Changed the password to the joint household account.
Not because she intended to steal shared money.
Because she no longer knew who else had access.
Then Clara called the lender.
The application was pending.
No funds had been disbursed.
Thank God.
The fraud representative asked whether she knew the co-applicant.
“Yes.”
“Do you authorize the application?”
“No.”
“Did you provide your Social Security number?”
“No.”
“Income information?”
“No.”
“Employment information?”
“No.”
Then came the question that made her stomach twist.
“Did you upload a copy of your driver’s license?”
Clara went still.
May you like
“No.”
Because somebody had.
