Chapter 4 - MY SISTER'S PERFECT LIFEBy the next morning, I understood something I should have learned years earlier.
A lie rarely survives alone.
It needs other lies to protect it.
Khloe had built an entire world from them.
To her friends, she was a successful property investor.
To Julian's clients, she was an heiress whose older sister had permanently relocated to the Middle East.
To lenders, she controlled a valuable property.
To the insurance company, she owned it.
And on social media, the house I had bought for Mom appeared constantly in photographs beneath captions like:
So grateful for the life we've built.
Nothing beats owning your dream home.
Hard work pays off.
I sat in the hotel staring at one photograph after another.
Khloe holding champagne beside Mom's fireplace.
Julian grilling steaks on the patio Mom had been scrubbing.
Parties around the backyard.
A birthday celebration where people danced in the kitchen.
Mom appeared in only two photographs.
In one, she was carrying food.
In another, she was cleaning plates.
I closed the app.
Mom sat across from me.
"I'm sorry."
"Please stop saying that."
"I should've told you."
"Why didn't you?"
She looked toward the window.
"Because you were happy."
That answer stunned me.
"What?"
"You worked so hard to get where you were. Every time you called, you sounded tired, but proud. You'd tell me about a new project or a promotion."
"Mom, that doesn't mean—"
"I didn't want you coming home because of me."
I sat beside her.
"I would've come."
"I know."
"That's what daughters do."
She smiled sadly.
"That's what you do."
The distinction hurt.
I knew exactly which other daughter she meant.
"How did this start?"
Mom took a long breath.
"Khloe called one night crying. Julian's business was struggling. Their apartment lease was ending. She said they only needed three months."
"So you invited them in."
"Of course."
"And then?"
"At first, it was nice."
She smiled at the memory.
"Khloe cooked dinner. Julian fixed things. We watched movies. I thought… maybe it was a blessing."
"When did it change?"
"When Julian's business started doing better."
That sounded backward.
"Why then?"
"They started buying things."
The new furniture.
The cars.
The parties.
"Khloe said they needed to entertain clients. She asked if they could use the dining room. Then the living room."
Mom picked at the edge of a napkin.
"Eventually, I felt like I was visiting their house."
"Why didn't you tell them to leave?"
"I did."
I looked at her.
"When?"
"Last summer."
"What happened?"
"Khloe cried."
Of course.
"She said I had never believed in her. She said you had always been my favorite."
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
The old wound.
Khloe had always believed Mom loved me more.
Maybe because I got better grades.
Maybe because I was older.
Maybe because when Dad left, I became the responsible one.
I worked after school.
Khloe rebelled.
I helped with bills.
Khloe disappeared for weekends.
Mom and I became partners.
Khloe became the child we worried about.
But none of that justified what happened.
"Then Julian got angry," Mom continued.
"He said I was selfish. That family took care of family."
The hypocrisy almost made me laugh.
"What about the basement?"
"After I asked them to leave, Julian started remodeling the room upstairs."
"Your bedroom?"
She nodded.
"He said it would only be for a week."
"And you never moved back."
"No."
A knock came at the hotel door.
Priya entered with Daniel and Marcus.
Marcus carried two thick binders.
"We found more."
I didn't want more.
But more was what we got.
The fraudulent insurance claim was only one piece.
There were online loan applications.
Fake rental agreements.
Statements suggesting Mom had paid Julian's company for "property management."
And one document showing a private loan of $120,000.
Secured against the house.
Daniel stared at it.
"This isn't valid."
"Obviously."
"No, I mean the lender may not know that."
"How did they secure a loan against property Khloe doesn't own?"
"They submitted a deed."
My stomach dropped.
"What deed?"
He slid a copy across the table.
It appeared to transfer the house from me to Mom, then from Mom to Khloe.
Both transactions supposedly occurred while I was in Dubai.
My signature appeared on the first transfer.
I stared at it.
"That's not my signature."
"We know."
"Who notarized it?"
Daniel's expression answered before he spoke.
"Bethany Reed."
Julian's sister.
Priya spoke quietly.
"We contacted the county recorder. The document appears to have been submitted electronically."
"Can they undo it?"
"We've started that process."
"Started?"
"Natalie, this is fraud, but bureaucratically, fraud doesn't disappear just because it's obvious."
I stood and paced.
"So somebody can forge my signature, steal my property on paper, and I have to prove I didn't give it away?"
"Temporarily, yes."
"That's insane."
"It is."
Marcus opened his binder.
"The good news is their trail is sloppy."
"How sloppy?"
"Bethany's notary commission was expired. One document lists you as being physically present in Georgia on a date when immigration records show you entered the UAE through Dubai International Airport that same morning."
I stopped.
"That's useful."
"Extremely."
"And the money?"
"Also useful."
He showed me a chart.
The $120,000 private loan had entered an account controlled by Julian.
Within three weeks:
$29,000 went toward the Range Rover.
$18,500 paid credit card debt.
$11,000 funded a luxury vacation.
$9,700 went to a company called Belle Vie Events.
"What is that?"
Marcus hesitated.
"We looked it up."
He opened a website.
Wedding photographs filled the screen.
"What did Julian spend nearly ten thousand dollars on at a wedding company?"
Marcus clicked another file.
An invoice.
Flowers.
Photography.
Private dinner.
Luxury hotel suite.
Personalized decorations.
The event date was four months earlier.
Client name:
JULIAN REED.
Event:
ANNIVERSARY EXPERIENCE.
Except the woman's name printed beside Julian's wasn't Khloe.
It was Sabrina Vale.
Mom looked confused.
"Who's Sabrina?"
I had no idea.
Marcus did.
"She's Julian's business-development manager."
I stared at him.
"You're telling me he's having an affair?"
"I'm telling you he spent almost ten thousand dollars from fraudulently obtained money on an intimate anniversary package with a woman who isn't his wife."
That was enough for me.
For the first time since coming home, I almost felt sorry for Khloe.
Almost.
Then my phone buzzed.
A message from her.
Please meet me alone. Julian cannot know.
I read it twice.
Another came.
I'm serious. I'm scared.
I showed Priya.
"Do I go?"
"Not alone."
"She specifically asked—"
"You don't owe her secrecy."
Mom looked worried.
"What if she's in danger?"
Priya considered this.
"Choose a public location. We stay nearby."
Two hours later, I sat across from Khloe in a crowded coffee shop.
She wore sunglasses despite being indoors.
Her fingers shook.
"Did you tell Julian?"
"No."
She lowered her voice.
"You need to stop."
I stared at her.
"You called me because you want me to stop?"
"You don't understand what he's capable of."
"You helped him."
"I know."
"You forged documents."
"I didn't forge your signature."
"Who did?"
She looked away.
"Khloe."
"I can't."
"Then we're done."
I stood.
She grabbed my wrist.
"Beth did."
I slowly sat again.
"Julian's sister?"
Khloe nodded.
"Julian told her you had agreed to transfer the house."
"And she believed him?"
"No."
That answer was worse.
"She knew?"
"Yes."
"Did you?"
Tears appeared.
"Natalie—"
"Did you know my signature was fake?"
Silence.
"Answer me."
"Yes."
My heart sank.
She began crying.
"I was desperate."
"For what? A Range Rover?"
"For my marriage!"
I stared at her.
She covered her mouth.
"Julian said I was useless. He said you were the successful one and I'd never have anything of my own."
"So you stole mine?"
"I thought we'd fix it before you knew."
"How?"
"His company was supposed to make money."
"With a forged loan."
"He promised we'd repay everything."
I leaned forward.
"And Mom?"
Her face crumpled.
"I didn't mean for that to happen."
"You moved her into a basement."
"Julian said—"
"Stop blaming Julian for choices you made."
She looked down.
After a long silence, she whispered, "He's leaving me."
I almost laughed at the absurdity.
"For Sabrina?"
Her head jerked up.
"You know?"
"I know more every hour."
Khloe wiped her face.
"He's been moving money."
"Where?"
"I don't know."
"Then why tell me?"
"Because yesterday he told me if everything falls apart, he'll say it was all my idea."
I sat back.
"Was it?"
"No."
"Some of it was."
She didn't deny that.
"He has recordings."
"Of what?"
"Me talking about the deeds. The loan. Mom."
I felt no sympathy now.
Just clarity.
"You want me to save you."
"I want to help."
"No. You want to switch sides because you're losing."
She flinched.
Maybe because it was true.
I stood.
This time she didn't stop me.
But as I turned away, she said something that froze me.
"Natalie."
I looked back.
Khloe removed a small flash drive from her purse and placed it on the table.
"Julian keeps copies of everything."
I stared at it.
"Where did you get that?"
"His office."
"What's on it?"
Her voice dropped.
"Enough to put both of us in prison."
I picked it up.
"Why give it to me?"
She looked toward the window.
"Because I deserve what happens to me."
May you like
Then she looked back.
"But Mom doesn't."
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