I waited until everyone had arrived before I gave my nephew the envelope. He opened it expecting the lease paperwork, but the first page was a copy of the original deposit receipt. The second was the landlord’s final accounting showing exactly how much had been charged to me after the damage. I told him I wasn’t there to embarrass him or ask for the eleven thousand back. He looked at the numbers and said he’d already paid his part. I asked him how, because the landlord’s records showed that every payment had come from an account in my name.
His smile disappeared. I pulled out the last page and told him to read the date. Three months after he moved into the house, someone had opened a second account using my information. The money from that account had been used to cover the rent, utilities, and eventually the repairs. My nephew said he didn’t know anything about it. Then his wife stepped closer and asked why the account had her husband’s name attached to the transfer history. He said it must have been an old account. I told him it wasn’t old. It had been opened two weeks after I sold my workshop tools.
Then I showed him the document I’d been saving for the end. It was the application for that account, and the signature wasn’t mine. My nephew stared at it, then looked toward his mother. She suddenly stopped talking. I told him the bank had already agreed to investigate because I’d never authorized the account or any of the transfers. He asked what I wanted from him. I said, “Nothing tonight.” Then I put the envelope back on the table and told him the bank would contact everyone whose name appeared on the paperwork. His housewarming went completely quiet when he realized the person who had opened the account had used the same signature that appeared on his lease.
