Rows of credit cards with my name and large balances stare back at me.
“This isn’t me,” I tell him.
“It might not be you per se, but it’s all in your name.”
I have no words. I feel blinded.
I don’t understand how my credit is bad.
But I know it’s not Cory’s fault, so I stand and thank him for letting me know.
His advice to keep up the good work and come back in a year or more only confuses me more.
Instead of heading for the bakery after I leave the bank, I head for the police station. Something about this seems off.
What is happening right now?
It takes me no time to reach my father’s place of employment. They buzz me in the front and let me walk to his office. He’s sitting behind his desk.
I knock on the doorframe, doing my best not to start crying.
“Brooke, what are you doing here?”
“I have to ask you something,” I say and sit across from him.
His office is a mess. Papers everywhere on his desk andstacks of files on the floor. This place stresses me out. I like organization and order.
“I was just at the bank to get a loan for the bakery, but it seems my credit is bad. There are a bunch of cards with large balances in my name, but I didn’t apply for them, and they can’t approve me for a loan.”
My dad's expression switches from curiosity to remorse quickly as he looks away. But he doesn’t say anything.
“What?” I ask.
“I …” He clears his throat and sighs. “It’s your mother.”
The last word comes out so softly, I almost don’t hear it.
My father doesn’t like to talk about a number of topics. The Broncos, if they lose, his front yard, which is never as green as his neighbors’, the fact that most people prefer bottled water over tap, just to name a few. But the one thing he hates to talk about the most is anything that includes my mother.
It’s clear as day right now that she’s about to be the topic of discussion.
“What about her?” I ask.
He turns to look at me, and the remorseful expression fades quickly to one void of emotion.
“A couple of years ago, when your sister and brother-in-law were buying their first house, she ran into this same problem. Long story short, your mother took credit cards out in her name and racked them up, never paying a dime.”
I suck in a breath and put my hand on my chest. “How?”
He shrugs. “She knows your information, and people like her are desperate enough to do something like that.”
I pinch my lips and close my eyes.
I swear she loved us once. At least … I thought she did.
I swallow the lump in my throat. If she did this to my sister, she would easily steal my identity, too.
I should have asked more questions at the bank. No wonderCory looked at me with pity. He was probably scared to tell me that I need to start paying off my debt before acquiring more, but because we live in the same town and see each other daily, he didn’t want to make it weird.
