Chapter 2 - The Application I Never Signed
I called the bank before I called my father.
Piedmont Community Bank’s fraud department kept me on hold for eleven minutes.
I spent all eleven staring at Dad’s message.
When the investigator finally answered, she asked for my Social Security number, address, and date of birth.
Then she became very quiet.
“Ms. Monroe, there is a personal term-loan application for fifty thousand dollars under your name.”
“I didn’t submit it.”
“It was submitted yesterday afternoon.”
Before Madison destroyed my dress.
“Has it funded?”
“No. It was flagged for final employment verification.”
My knees weakened.
“Freeze it.”
The investigator did.
She advised me to place fraud alerts with the credit bureaus, freeze my credit, file an identity-theft report, and preserve all communications with anyone who might have had access to my personal information.
“What was the stated purpose?”
“Debt consolidation.”
I frowned.
“Not a business startup?”
“No.”
That was the first inconsistency.
The application contained my salary.
Employer.
monthly income.
Social Security number.
driver’s-license number.
even the correct balance of my student loan.
Whoever submitted it had access to documents.
Dad had asked me to bring my financial records downstairs in the morning.
Apparently he already had enough.
I called him.
He answered immediately.
“Where are you?”
“Did you submit a loan in my name?”
“Claire, come home and we can explain everything.”
“Did you?”
Mom’s voice sounded in the background.
“Tell her not to be hysterical.”
I almost smiled.
“Answer me.”
Dad exhaled.
“The consultant started the paperwork so we wouldn’t lose time.”
“I said no.”
“Then you said you’d handle it.”
“After the application was submitted.”
Silence.
“Who gave him my Social Security number?”
Dad’s voice sharpened.
“You live in our house. We have family records.”
“That isn’t permission.”
“Nobody stole anything. The money hasn’t even moved.”
I ended the call.
Rebecca met me at her front door wearing pajamas and holding coffee.
I hadn’t told her I was coming until twenty minutes earlier.
She looked at my suitcases.
“How bad?”
I handed her the phone.
She read Dad’s messages.
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
I filed the identity-theft report from her kitchen table.
Then I pulled all three credit reports.
I expected the fifty-thousand-dollar inquiry.
I found it.
I also found three mortgage inquiries from exactly three years earlier.
The month I had planned to move out.
Beneath them was an account I didn’t recognize.
Blue Ridge Residential Servicing.
Original balance:
$318,000.
Current balance:
$276,441.
Borrower:
Claire Monroe.
I stared at the screen.
Rebecca leaned closer.
“Claire?”
May you like
I whispered:
“That’s my parents’ house.”
