Chapter 10 - The Trust Fund
That evening, safe in the confines of my apartment, Claire and I did exactly what I had suggested to Daniel: we read the deed and traced the history of their primary residence.
"He always told me the house belonged to him because he paid the mortgage," Claire said, sipping a cup of herbal tea as I spread documents across the dining table.
"He lied," I replied, tracing a line on the property records I had pulled from the county database.
The sprawling suburban house had been purchased four years ago using a massive down payment of $600,000. That money had come directly from a trust fund our late grandmother had left exclusively to Claire. Daniel had convinced Claire that because they were married when the house was purchased, the trust money automatically became marital property under his control.
Legally, it had not.
But as I dug deeper into the trust's transaction history, a cold sense of dread settled in my stomach. I pulled up the transfer document that had authorized the movement of the $600,000 into Daniel's private business account before it was used for the house.
"Claire, look at this date," I said, pointing to the digital signature line.
She leaned in, her eyes narrowing. "That was... that was in October of last year."
"Specifically, October 14th," I confirmed. "The signature transferring total control of your trust to Daniel is dated three days after your emergency appendectomy."
May you like
Claire covered her mouth with her hand. "I was in the intensive care unit on strong painkillers. I was barely conscious."
"Medical records show you were heavily sedated," I said, my voice hardening. "You couldn't have signed this. He forged your signature to steal your inheritance while you were lying in a hospital bed."
