The woman with the folder stepped inside, her eyes scanning the room like she’d walked into versions of this situation many times before. “I’m Ms. Parker. I work with the county housing and financial protections office. Ms. Brooks, we received documentation you submitted regarding identity misuse, unauthorized debt, and threats of eviction.”
Ethan’s eyes snapped toward me. “You—what did you do?”
I ignored him and turned to Ms. Parker. “I brought everything. Credit card statements, bank logs, screenshots of messages. The mortgage paperwork too.”
Patricia scoffed loudly. “Unauthorized debt? Please. She’s married. What’s his is hers and what’s hers is—”
“Not how it works,” Ms. Parker said, calm but firm. “Especially not with forged signatures and accounts opened without consent.”
Ethan’s face turned gray. “Forged—? I didn’t forge anything.”
Deputy Ortega gestured toward the couch. “Sir, please sit. Everyone needs to stay calm while we clarify facts.”
Ethan looked at Patricia like a child searching for direction. Patricia’s lips tightened. “This is a misunderstanding,” she said, her voice softer now as she tried a different tone. “Natalie, honey, you’re upset. Let’s not do something you’ll regret.”
I almost laughed.
Honey.
She had called me “girl,” “freeloader,” “office worker,” anything but my name. And now suddenly I was honey.
Ms. Parker opened her folder and spread several copies across the coffee table. The first page displayed a credit card application with my name, my social security number, and a signature that looked like mine if you glanced quickly—but the pressure strokes were off. It was a carefully practiced imitation.
Ethan leaned forward and then jerked back as if the paper burned him. “That’s not—”
“The account was opened three months ago,” Ms. Parker said. “The spending pattern traces to vendors and withdrawals near your known locations. We also have a recorded call from a collection agency, in which Ms. Brooks stated she never opened this account, and a follow-up letter requesting an investigation.”
Patricia lifted her chin. “She’s trying to frame my son.”
I placed a second page on top of the stack. “That’s not the only one.”
Ethan stared at it. His jaw tightened. “Natalie, you’re overreacting. I was going to pay it back when I got hired.”