Chapter 7
James searched the company registry.
Walker Family Outreach had been opened using his name, his former military rank, and an old photograph from a unit newsletter. The mailing address was a rented mailbox.
The listed contact was Lauren.
“She used your name to solicit donations?” I asked.
“It looks that way.”
“Did she say the money was for military families?”
“The name implies it.”
The dental office deposits, the money from my parents, and Colin’s loans might all connect to the same scheme.
James called the investigator.
Within an hour, the military legal office confirmed that the group had no relationship with the armed forces. They had already received questions from two people who thought James had endorsed it.
“I never gave permission,” he said.
“I know. We’ll document that.”
The investigator asked us to preserve every message and not contact anyone who had donated.
I felt numb.
Lauren had not merely made a mistake in a moment of anger. She had built a story around people’s trust. She had told each person a version that made the next lie easier.
We called Dad and Mom.
They came over after dinner.
Dad looked at James.
“Did she use your name?”
“Yes.”
My mother began to cry.
“She told me she was starting a charity to help military families.”
“Did you give her money for it?”
“I gave her money to cover a start-up cost.”
“How much?”
“Five thousand.”
“Did you see an account?”
“No.”
“Did you know about the fake company?”
“No.”
James spoke carefully.
“We need everything you have. Emails, receipts, messages. All of it.”
My father nodded.
He looked sick.
“We gave her the money because we wanted to help.”
“She used that.”
My mother pressed a hand to her chest.
“I should have asked questions.”
“Yes,” I said. “You should have.”
She didn’t argue.
For once, no one asked me to soften my words.
We collected every record and sent it to the investigator and the company’s lawyer. The charity page was taken down. A few donors had contributed small amounts. They were contacted and reimbursed from the remaining account balance.
Lauren’s account had less than two hundred dollars in it.
The missing money had gone to rent, credit cards, cash withdrawals, and a deposit on a car.
The car was registered in her name.
The next day, the investigator called James.
“Lauren says she created the organization to help families. She claims she intended to use the money for that purpose.”
“Did she?”
“There’s no record of any support payments.”
“Then where did the money go?”
“Personal expenses.”
The investigator said the case would be referred to local authorities. The military would continue reviewing the false association with James’s unit.
I sat with Emma on the rug while James took the call.
She was learning to roll from her back to her stomach. She made a little grunt of effort, then flopped onto her side and laughed.
I laughed with her.
For a brief moment, the world felt simple again.
Then my phone rang.
It was Lauren.
I almost ignored it.
James glanced at me.
“Do you want to answer?”
“No.”
I silenced the call.
She called again.
I answered and set it on speaker.
“What?”
“I need to talk to you.”
“Say it.”
“They’re making this sound like I stole money from veterans.”
“You used a name that made people think the military supported you.”
“I was going to help them.”
“Where are the payments?”
“I hadn’t started yet.”
“Where did the donations go?”
“I needed to cover expenses.”
“What expenses?”
“My rent. My bills. The car.”
“Then it wasn’t a charity.”
“I thought it could become one.”
“You can’t spend other people’s donations on yourself.”
“I know.”
“Do you?”
“I’m trying to fix it.”
“How?”
“I’ll pay everyone back.”
“With what?”
“I’ll sell the car.”
“And the money from the dental office?”
“I’ll pay it back too.”
“And Mom and Dad?”
“I’ll pay them.”
“You took money from James.”
“I’ll pay him.”
“You hit Emma.”
“I said I’m sorry.”
“Why are you calling me?”
“I want you to tell them I’m not a bad person.”
“I can’t do that.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t know who you are right now.”
“I’m still your sister.”
“Then start acting like someone who cares about her family.”
She began to cry.
“I didn’t mean to hurt Emma.”
“But you did.”
“I hate that you think I’m dangerous.”
“You hit a baby.”
“I barely touched her.”
“That is not a defense.”
“I was frustrated. I had been drinking.”
The admission turned the air cold.
“You were drinking?”
“I had two glasses of wine.”
“You held a six-month-old after drinking?”
“I wasn’t holding her.”
“You said you were trying to stop her crying.”
“I was.”
“How?”
She went quiet.
“Lauren, what did you do?”
“I tapped her cheek.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know.”
“You need help.”
“I don’t need a therapist.”
“Then what do you need?”
“Money.”
The answer came too fast.
I closed my eyes.
“Who is threatening you?”
“No one.”
“Then why do you need money?”
“I owe people.”
“What people?”
“Colin. The office. Mom. Dad.”
“And the donors.”
“I didn’t mean to make it this big.”
“You chose every step.”
“I know.”
“Then take responsibility.”
“I am.”
“No, you’re asking me to make it disappear.”
She hung up.
James took the phone from me and set it on the table.
“She needs professional help,” he said.
“Yes.”
“We can’t make her take it.”
“I know.”
Emma rolled onto her stomach again and lifted her head.
I placed my hand gently on her back.
“I’m not letting her near the baby,” I said.
“Neither am I.”
My parents came over the following day. Dad had already spoken with a lawyer. They were going to cooperate with the investigation and stop sending Lauren money.
My mother held her hands together.
“She called me last night,” she said. “She asked me to tell the police she had permission to use the money.”
“Did you?”
“No.”
I looked at her.
“What did you say?”
“I told her I wouldn’t lie.”
The admission gave me a small measure of hope.
“She said I was choosing you.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said I was choosing the truth.”
For the first time since Christmas, my mother looked directly at me without asking me to make things easier for Lauren.
I believed she understood something.
May you like
Not everything.
Enough to begin.
