Chapter 3 - Twenty-Three Children Who Never Got Their Money|
The following morning, I woke to the sound of my phone ringing.
For one confused moment, I expected to hear Lily practicing in the kitchen.
Then I remembered the gala.
The forged signature.
The twenty-three missing payments.
And the way Roman Bellini had looked at his brother when he realized the foundation's financial records could not be trusted.
I answered the call.
"Grace Miller?"
"Speaking."
"This is Sonia Alvarez from the Bellini Children's Arts Foundation."
I recognized her name immediately.
Sonia was the scholarship coordinator who had emailed me four months earlier, promising Lily's grant would arrive soon.
Her voice sounded nervous.
"I need to speak with you about your daughter's paperwork."
My stomach tightened.
"Is her scholarship finally coming?"
There was a long pause.
"Mrs. Miller, please don't discuss this over the phone."
"Why?"
"Because somebody has been opening my office after hours."
I sat upright.
"What are you talking about?"
"I've been asking questions about those payments since July."
"Then why didn't you tell anyone?"
"I tried."
Her voice broke.
"I sent reports to Matteo Bellini's office three times."
Before I could respond, the call disconnected.
I stared at my phone.
A moment later, a message appeared.
Please don't trust any financial record unless you see the original.
I read it twice.
Then I looked toward the kitchen.
Lily was sitting at the small table, eating cereal with her dance shoes beside her plate.
She'd insisted on bringing them home instead of leaving them with the other performers.
The yellow stitching looked brighter in the morning sunlight.
"Mom, are you going to work today?"
I checked the time.
My shift started in forty minutes.
But before I could answer, another message arrived.
This one came from the Bellini household administrator.
Your services are suspended pending review of financial irregularities involving foundation disbursements.
I read the message three times.
Suspended.
Not given a day off.
Not asked to stay home.
Suspended.
I felt the room tilt.
Our rent was already eleven days late.
The refrigerator contained half a carton of milk, three eggs, and enough groceries for maybe two more dinners.
If I lost my job, I didn't know what would happen to us.
"Mom?"
I forced myself to smile.
"I might have a little extra time with you today."
Lily brightened.
"Can we practice the new routine?"
"Of course."
She jumped up and hugged me.
I held her longer than necessary.
She had no idea how frightened I was.
An hour later, somebody knocked on our apartment door.
I looked through the peephole.
Roman Bellini stood in the hallway.
Behind him was a tall woman carrying a leather briefcase.
I opened the door halfway.
"Mr. Bellini?"
His eyes moved briefly to the peeling paint around the doorframe.
Then to the overdue-rent notice lying on the small table behind me.
He looked away before I could feel embarrassed.
"May we come in?"
I hesitated.
"Why?"
"Because someone suspended you from a job I haven't dismissed you from."
I stepped aside.
Roman entered, followed by the woman.
"This is Elena Torres," he explained.
"She's a detective with the city's financial crimes unit."
My heart began pounding.
Detective Torres showed me her identification.
"We're investigating suspected fraud involving foundation payments."
I looked at Roman.
"Am I being accused of something?"
"No," Torres said.
"At this stage, we're trying to determine who accessed your information and whether your identity was used without permission."
She opened her briefcase.
Inside were copies of the scholarship application, an employee information form, and the forged check.
I immediately recognized the employee form.
It was the document I'd signed eighteen months earlier when Roman's household hired me.
My signature appeared at the bottom.
Torres placed the check beside it.
The resemblance was unmistakable.
"Who had access to this form?" she asked.
"Human resources, I suppose."
Roman's jaw tightened.
"And the household administrator."
Torres nodded.
"We'll need to establish who actually viewed or copied it."
Lily appeared in the doorway.
She was wearing her oversized dance sweatshirt.
"Mom, is that the man from last night?"
Roman turned.
"Good morning, Lily."
She smiled shyly.
"Good morning."
Then she noticed the detective's badge.
Her expression changed.
"Is Mommy in trouble?"
I started toward her.
But Roman answered first.
"Your mother did something very brave."
Lily looked at him.
"By putting my shoes on the table?"
"Yes."
He glanced at the financial documents.
"And now we're trying to find out who made that necessary."
When Lily returned to her room, Detective Torres asked me to examine the signature again.
I pointed out the connected letters.
She photographed my explanation and asked me to provide handwriting samples through the proper investigation process.
Roman remained silent.
After nearly an hour, Torres closed her briefcase.
"We're also reviewing records for other families who reported not receiving grants."
I stared at her.
"Twenty-three families?"
"Twenty-three questionable payments so far."
"How much money?"
She hesitated.
"The preliminary total exceeds one hundred and eighty thousand dollars."
I couldn't breathe.
One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
Money intended for piano lessons, dance shoes, art supplies, instrument repairs, and children whose parents were already struggling.
Money somebody had reported as paid.
Roman stood near our narrow kitchen window.
His face was unreadable.
Then he turned to me.
"Grace, your suspension has been reversed."
I swallowed.
"Your brother won't like that."
"My brother doesn't decide who works in my house."
"With respect, sir, he thought he could decide whether my daughter deserved to dance."
Roman didn't argue.
For several seconds, he studied the worn kitchen floor.
Then he said something I never expected.
"You're right."
Before leaving, he instructed his administrator by phone to continue my regular pay during the investigation.
I didn't thank him for that.
Being paid the wages I depended on wasn't a favor.
It was the least his household could do after allowing his brother to humiliate me.
Roman seemed to understand.
That afternoon, I received another message from Sonia Alvarez.
This time, it contained a photograph.
A page from a handwritten ledger.
Twenty-three names filled the sheet.
Beside several of them were dollar amounts.
Beside Lily's name were two words written in red ink.
Signature reused.
May you like
And across the bottom of the page, beneath a heavy black underline, someone had written an instruction.
Destroy before annual audit.
