Chapter 7
Thomas Reed walked into Grace Mitchell's office carrying a brown leather folder.
He looked exhausted.
His gray hair was neatly combed.
His shoulders were hunched.
And when he saw me, he stopped.
For a moment, he simply stared.
Then his eyes filled with tears.
"You look just like your father."
I didn't know what to say.
Mom stood beside me.
"Mr. Reed."
He lowered his head.
"Angela."
Her expression was guarded.
"You have something to tell us?"
He nodded.
"Yes."
Grace invited everyone to sit.
Thomas placed the folder on the table.
Then he looked directly at me.
"Malik, I owe your father an apology."
My stomach tightened.
"Why?"
He took a shaky breath.
"Because I knew he was being framed."
The room went silent.
Mom covered her mouth.
I stared at him.
"What?"
Thomas nodded.
"Your father refused to cooperate with Robert Mercer."
I gripped the edge of the table.
"We know that."
Thomas looked down.
"After Daniel refused, Robert needed a way to remove him from the championship game."
I swallowed.
"How?"
"He arranged for false information to be submitted to league officials."
My chest tightened.
"What information?"
Thomas opened the folder.
Inside were old financial documents.
Statements.
Emails.
Internal reports.
He pointed toward one page.
"This was presented as evidence that Daniel had received money from a betting intermediary."
Mom leaned forward.
"But he never received it."
Thomas shook his head.
"No."
My heart pounded.
"Then where did the money go?"
Thomas looked ashamed.
"Into an account that had been opened using Daniel's personal information without his knowledge."
I stared.
"Someone stole his identity?"
He nodded.
"The records were then used to make him look guilty."
My mother began crying.
"Daniel kept saying the account wasn't his."
Thomas closed his eyes.
"I know."
She looked at him.
"Then why didn't you help him?"
He lowered his head.
"Because Robert threatened to expose financial misconduct I had committed in an unrelated business."
Silence.
I stared at him.
He hadn't stayed quiet because he was confused.
He had stayed quiet because telling the truth would expose his own wrongdoing.
My anger rose.
"So you let my dad suffer."
Thomas nodded.
"Yes."
"Because you wanted to protect yourself."
"Yes."
I stood abruptly.
Mom touched my arm.
"Malik."
I shook my head.
"No."
I looked directly at Thomas.
"My dad worked until he could barely lift his arm."
Tears filled my eyes.
"He came home exhausted. He told me he was proud of me even when he could hardly keep his eyes open."
Thomas began crying.
I continued.
"And you knew he hadn't cheated."
He nodded.
"I'm sorry."
I laughed bitterly.
"Sorry doesn't bring him back."
The words hung in the air.
Thomas lowered his head.
"I know."
Grace spoke gently.
"Malik, you don't have to forgive him."
I looked away.
I wasn't ready.
Maybe I never would be.
Thomas opened another section of the folder.
"I brought these because your father deserves the truth."
He handed Grace several original documents.
They included correspondence showing that Robert had pressured officials to treat Daniel as guilty before the investigation was complete.
There were also records connecting the disputed payment to accounts associated with Robert's business network.
Grace examined them carefully.
"Have these been provided to investigators?"
Thomas nodded.
"Yes. My attorney has arranged for me to cooperate."
Mom wiped her eyes.
"Why now?"
Thomas looked at me.
"Because I saw Malik pitch."
I stared at him.
He continued.
"I watched that video over and over."
His voice broke.
"And every time, I saw Daniel."
He shook his head.
"I remembered what happened to his father. I remembered what I allowed."
My throat tightened.
Thomas continued.
"I don't want another generation carrying the consequences of my silence."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Grace asked whether he was willing to testify formally.
He nodded.
"Yes."
Even if it exposed him to consequences.
Even if he lost his reputation.
Even if the truth cost him everything he'd spent years protecting.
That was the first thing he'd done that I could respect.
After the meeting, Mom and I drove home in silence.
I stared out the window.
Finally, she spoke.
"How are you feeling?"
I shrugged.
"Angry."
She nodded.
"That's understandable."
I looked at her.
"Do you think Dad would forgive them?"
Mom thought for a moment.
"Your father believed people could change."
I looked down.
"But he also believed people should take responsibility."
She nodded.
"Yes."
I leaned my head against the window.
"I don't know if I can forgive them."
Mom reached over and squeezed my hand.
"You don't have to decide today."
That evening, Ethan called.
He'd heard about Thomas's cooperation.
"How's your family doing?"
I sighed.
"Okay, I guess."
He paused.
"That's a lot for a fourteen-year-old."
I looked at the baseball sitting on my desk.
"Yeah."
Ethan continued.
"Want to hear something about baseball?"
I smiled faintly.
"Sure."
"Some of the best pitchers in the world lose games."
I frowned.
"Okay."
He laughed.
"I'm going somewhere with this."
I waited.
"They get hit hard. They make mistakes. They face crowds that boo them."
I listened.
"But they learn not to let one bad inning become their whole career."
I looked down.
Ethan's voice softened.
"Your father had a terrible chapter in his life. But it wasn't his whole story."
My throat tightened.
"And it doesn't have to become yours."
I closed my eyes.
"Thanks."
He laughed.
"Now go do your homework."
I smiled.
"Seriously?"
"Seriously. Your mom told me you have a science test."
I groaned.
He laughed harder.
For the first time in weeks, I felt like a normal kid again.
The investigation continued.
The league reviewed the new evidence.
The false financial records were examined.
The audio recording was authenticated.
Former teammates were interviewed.
And Coach Arthur submitted a detailed account of the bribery approach.
Eventually, the league announced that the allegations against Daniel Johnson were unsupported and that its earlier handling of the case had been deeply flawed.
The statement cleared my father's name.
I read it three times.
Then I gave the phone to Mom.
She read it silently.
Her face crumpled.
For a long moment, she couldn't speak.
Then she whispered, "Daniel."
She covered her mouth.
Tears streamed down her cheeks.
I hugged her.
"We did it, Mom."
She held me tightly.
"Your father was telling the truth."
I nodded.
"I know."
The next morning, reporters gathered outside our house.
Mom didn't want a big announcement.
But Grace advised that a short statement could help stop misinformation.
We stood together on our porch.
My hands trembled.
Then Mom spoke.
"My husband was an honest man."
Her voice broke.
"He spent years trying to clear his name."
She looked at me.
"And our son deserves to know that his father's integrity was never for sale."
Cameras flashed.
Questions followed.
But Mom only said one more thing.
"We're grateful the truth has finally been recognized."
Then we went inside.
For the first time in years, our house felt lighter.
That afternoon, Coach Arthur came to visit.
He stood on the porch holding his old baseball cap.
"Angela."
Mom looked at him.
"Arthur."
His eyes filled.
"I know I don't deserve forgiveness."
She said nothing.
He continued.
"But I wanted to thank you for letting me help."
Mom took a breath.
"You helped now."
He nodded.
"I wish I'd helped then."
"So do I."
He turned toward me.
"Malik, if you ever want someone to help you train..."
I studied him.
I wasn't sure what I felt.
Anger.
Sadness.
Maybe something else.
Finally, I said, "I'll think about it."
Arthur nodded.
"That's more than I deserve."
He started to leave.
Then his phone rang.
He checked the screen.
His expression changed.
"Arthur?" Mom asked.
He looked at us.
"Robert Mercer has been taken into custody."
My heart jumped.
Arthur swallowed.
"The authorities are pursuing charges connected to the financial fraud and attempts to conceal it."
I stood frozen.
For years, Robert had seemed untouchable.
Now he would have to answer for his choices.
But Arthur wasn't finished.
He looked directly at me.
"Malik, there's another announcement coming."
I frowned.
"What?"
May you like
His voice trembled.
"The league wants to honor your father."
