Instead, I opened my contacts.
There was one person I hadn’t spoken to in years.
My father’s younger brother.
Uncle Robert.
Robert had left the family after a business dispute with Dad when I was nineteen.
Nobody talked about him.
Mom called him selfish.
Dad called him unstable.
Peggy called him “the embarrassing uncle.”
I had never understood why.
Until now.
I searched his number.
It was still there.
My thumb hovered over it.
Then I pressed call.
He answered on the fourth ring.
“Hello?”
“Uncle Robert?”
Silence.
Then his voice changed.
“Kate?”
“Yes.”
“What happened?”
The question caught me off guard.
“How do you know something happened?”
“I know your father.”
That was all he said.
I swallowed.
“I need to ask you something.”
“Go ahead.”
“Have you heard of Tom Hayes?”
There was a long silence.
Then Robert said:
“Yes.”
My heart stopped.
“How?”
“Because I warned your father about him.”
I sat completely still.
“When?”
“About six months ago.”
“Why?”
Robert sighed.
“Because Tom isn’t an investor.”
“What is he?”
“He’s a professional borrower.”
I frowned.
“What does that mean?”
“It means he doesn’t build wealth. He builds appearances.”
I said nothing.
Robert continued.
“He finds people who want to believe they’re about to become wealthy. He shows them expensive cars, luxury hotels, investment accounts, business cards, photographs with important people. Then he gets them to give him money.”
I felt sick.
“Where did he get the money for the car?”
“I don’t know.”
“Does he own the car?”
“No.”
I froze.
“What?”
“He leases it.”
“His watch?”
“Probably borrowed or financed.”
“His business?”
“That’s where it gets interesting.”
I leaned forward.
“What?”
Robert lowered his voice.
“Tom has been connected to several companies over the last few years.”
“How many?”
“Enough.”
“What happened to them?”
“Some disappeared.”
“And the investors?”
“Lost money.”
I closed my eyes.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I tried.”
“When?”
“Two months ago.”
I frowned.
“I never heard from you.”
“Because your father told me to stay away from you.”
The room suddenly felt too small.
“Why?”
“Because he said you were jealous of Peggy and trying to ruin her engagement.”
I stared at the PDF on my screen.
“He believed Tom?”
“Yes.”
“And now?”
“I imagine he’s starting to regret that.”
I laughed bitterly.
“You have no idea.”
Robert was quiet.
Then he asked:
“What happened?”
I told him.
Everything.
The wedding.
The $80,000 loan.
My exclusion.
Tom disappearing.
The missing wedding money.
The unpaid hotel balance.
The forged guarantee.
When I finished, Robert didn’t speak for several seconds.
Then he said:
“Kate, listen to me carefully.”
“Okay.”
“Do not give them money.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
“Do not sign anything.”
“I won’t.”
“Do not let your parents convince you that helping Peggy means accepting responsibility for what Tom did.”
“I won’t.”
“And don’t go to Mexico.”
I looked at the PDF.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“Good.”
“Uncle Robert?”
“Yes?”
“How bad is this?”
He exhaled.
“I don’t know.”
That frightened me more than anything else.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean if Tom simply stole the wedding money, that’s one thing.”
“And if he didn’t?”
Robert’s voice became very quiet.
“Then you may have a much bigger problem.”
I looked at the document again.
“What kind of problem?”
“Give me an hour.”
“For what?”
“I need to check something.”
“What?”
“I’ll call you back.”
He hung up.
I stared at the phone.
An hour.
I had no idea what he was going to find.
I barely had time to process the conversation before another email appeared.
This one was from the hotel.
Urgent — Additional Documentation
I opened it.
There were three attachments.
The first was the guarantee.
The second was a copy of a bank transfer request.
The third was a scanned passport.
I opened the passport.
It belonged to Tom Hayes.
Except the photograph wasn’t the man I knew.
The name was different.
The date of birth was different.
The passport number was different.
But the photograph was unmistakably Tom.
I whispered:
“Oh my God.”
Someone had sent the hotel identification documents for a person named Thomas Adrian Hale.
Not Tom Hayes.
Hale.
I zoomed in on the photograph.
Same eyes.
Same jaw.
Same crooked smile.
But now I understood something.
Tom hadn’t simply lied about his business.
He had lied about his identity.
My phone rang.
Uncle Robert.
I answered immediately.
“What did you find?”
“Kate…”
His voice sounded different.
“What?”
“I searched Tom Hayes.”
“And?”
“There’s no Tom Hayes.”
I felt a chill run through me.
“What do you mean?”
“The name exists. But the person using it doesn’t.”
“What does that mean?”
“Tom’s real name is Thomas Adrian Hale.”
I closed my eyes.
“The passport.”
“You have a copy?”
“The hotel sent it to me.”
“Good. Keep it.”
“Why?”
“Because I found something else.”
“What?”
Robert paused.
Then he said:
“Your father didn’t just sign your name onto a wedding guarantee.”
I sat down slowly.
“What did he do?”
“He transferred money.”
“How much?”
“Kate…”
“How much?”
“Forty-five thousand dollars.”
I stared at the wall.
“From where?”
“Your parents’ home-equity account.”
I already knew the answer.
“To Tom?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Robert hesitated.
“To a company called Hale Capital.”
My stomach dropped.
“Hale.”
“Yes.”
“Tom’s company?”
“No.”
“What?”
Robert’s voice became grim.
“Hale Capital was dissolved three years ago.”
“Then where did the money go?”
“I don’t know yet.”
I looked at the wedding guarantee on my laptop.
The forged signature.
My address.
My father’s signature.
The $45,000 transfer.
The $80,000 home-equity loan.
Suddenly the wedding didn’t look like a wedding anymore.
It looked like a carefully constructed operation.
And I had been excluded from it for a reason.
I wasn’t supposed to see what was happening.
I wasn’t supposed to ask questions.
I wasn’t supposed to be there when the money disappeared.
And now I understood something even more disturbing.
Peggy hadn’t simply been chosen over me.
I had been deliberately removed from the room.
Because someone knew I would notice.
My phone buzzed again.
This time it wasn’t a call.
It was a text from an unknown number.
Only seven words.
You should have stayed out of this.
I stared at the message.
Then another arrived.
Tom isn’t the person you should be afraid of.
My blood went cold.
I looked toward the window.
My apartment was on the sixth floor.
No one could see inside.
At least, I thought they couldn’t.
I locked the door.
Then the windows.
Then I pulled the curtains.
For the first time since I had blocked my family, I felt something stronger than anger.
Fear.
Not because Tom had disappeared.
Not because my parents had lost money.
Not even because someone had forged my signature.
I was afraid because whoever had sent that message knew I was investigating.
And they wanted me to stop.
I sat at the kitchen table until the sun disappeared behind the buildings.
Then my phone rang again.
Uncle Robert.
I answered.
His first words were:
“Kate, I need you to listen very carefully.”
“I am.”
“I found the name of another person connected to Tom.”
“Who?”
“Your mother.”
