I knew that tone. I knew the desperate wish to turn an intentional act into a misunderstanding.
“Did you know my signature was forged?”
His eyes filled with tears.
“I knew Dad had arranged the paperwork. He said you had verbally agreed.”
“I never agreed.”
“I know that now.”
The words hung between us.
“You knew before you asked me to sign this.”
He said nothing.
I stepped back.
“Did you use our savings to cover the company’s losses?”
“Yes.”
“Did you know the money was being transferred through accounts that weren’t disclosed to the investors?”
“I didn’t know everything.”
That was not the same as denying it.
I asked him whether he had lied to investigators or signed any false statements.
He looked at me with an expression I had never seen before.
“Don’t do this, Alex.”
“Do what?”
“Act like I’m a criminal.”
“I haven’t called you one.”
