Chapter 6
The following morning, I helped Maya review her online accounts with the university's security team.
We changed passwords.
Enabled stronger authentication.
Checked for unfamiliar devices.
And confirmed that her academic records remained intact.
Maya sat beside me with her laptop open.
Her hands were trembling.
“Mom, what if he still gets in?”
I took her hand.
“The security team is helping us reduce that risk.”
She nodded.
“I hate feeling scared every time my phone makes a sound.”
My chest tightened.
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“Do you think that'll ever stop?”
I smiled gently.
“I believe it can get better with time and support.”
Her eyes filled.
“I want to feel normal again.”
I pulled her close.
“You don't have to rush.”
She leaned against me.
“I know.”
That afternoon, Patricia called with news about the missing laptop.
Investigators had located a device believed to be Maya's.
It had been recovered through the appropriate legal process.
I felt relief.
“Is her work still on it?”
“That will be determined through forensic examination.”
I nodded.
“Can she get it back?”
“Eventually, if it's no longer needed as evidence and ownership is confirmed.”
I looked toward Maya.
She was working on a small engineering project at the dining table.
For the first time in days, she looked absorbed in something she loved.
I didn't want to interrupt her.
But she noticed my expression.
“Mom?”
I smiled.
“They may have found your laptop.”
Her eyes widened.
“Really?”
I nodded.
She covered her mouth.
Then began crying.
I crossed the room and hugged her.
“It's okay.”
She shook her head.
“I thought everything was gone.”
I held her.
“Not everything, baby.”
She looked up.
“What?”
“Your talent. Your knowledge. Your future. None of that belongs to Ryan.”
She smiled through tears.
I kissed her forehead.
Over the following weeks, the investigations progressed.
The civilian authorities continued reviewing the garage incident.
The university examined the scholarship records.
The appropriate federal and contracting offices reviewed the financial information connected to Walker Strategic Solutions.
I kept those processes separate.
I didn't try to influence them.
I didn't contact witnesses on my own.
I let professionals do their work.
My responsibility was Maya.
And that responsibility required more patience than I had ever imagined.
Some mornings, she woke feeling strong.
Other mornings, she barely wanted to leave her room.
Sometimes she laughed.
Sometimes she cried without knowing why.
Dr. Brooks reminded us that recovery wasn't a straight line.
I listened.
I learned.
I stopped asking whether Maya felt better every hour.
Instead, I asked what she needed.
Sometimes she wanted company.
Sometimes she wanted quiet.
Sometimes she wanted to watch an old movie with me and Angela.
And sometimes she wanted to sit in the backyard without talking.
I respected those choices.
One evening, she surprised me.
“Mom?”
I looked up from the kitchen counter.
“Yes?”
“Can we go to Dad's memorial?”
My chest tightened.
David had been gone eight years.
We visited his grave on birthdays and anniversaries.
But Maya hadn't asked to go in months.
I nodded.
“Of course.”
We went the following Saturday.
The cemetery was quiet.
Maya carried white flowers.
David had always loved white lilies.
We placed them beside his headstone.
Then Maya knelt.
“Hi, Dad.”
My throat tightened.
She touched the stone.
“I've had a really hard year.”
I closed my eyes.
She continued.
“I wish you were here.”
A tear slid down my cheek.
Maya took a breath.
“Mom's helping me.”
I looked at her.
She smiled faintly.
“And Aunt Angela.”
Then she whispered, “I'm trying to be brave.”
I knelt beside her.
“Baby, you already are.”
She looked at me.
“Do you think Dad would be proud?”
My eyes filled.
“More than you can imagine.”
She leaned against me.
We stayed there for a long time.
Then Maya looked toward the sky.
“I miss him.”
I wrapped my arm around her.
“So do I.”
That evening, we returned home and made David's favorite dinner.
Barbecue chicken.
Cornbread.
Collard greens.
Angela joined us.
We told stories about him.
How he danced terribly.
How he sang loudly while driving.
How he once tried to teach Maya to fish and ended up falling into the lake.
Maya laughed until tears filled her eyes.
For a moment, grief became something warm.
Something we could share without fear.
Later that night, Patricia called.
Her voice was serious.
“Nia, the case is moving forward.”
I sat upright.
“What happened?”
“Formal charges have been filed against Ryan related to the garage incident.”
My chest tightened.
I closed my eyes.
“Thank God.”
Patricia continued.
“Margaret's conduct is also under review, and there may be separate proceedings concerning the financial allegations.”
I nodded.
“Understood.”
I didn't feel victorious.
I felt relieved that the evidence was being taken seriously.
But I knew the process wasn't over.
The next morning, Maya received an official notice from her university.
Her scholarship remained secure.
The university confirmed that the foundation's donor relationships did not give Margaret authority to revoke an individual student's award.
Maya read the letter twice.
Then she looked at me.
“Mom.”
I smiled.
“Yes?”
“They can't take it.”
I nodded.
“That's right.”
Her eyes filled.
“They can't take my scholarship.”
I hugged her.
“You earned it.”
She began crying against my shoulder.
For months, Margaret had used that scholarship as a threat.
Now the threat had lost its power.
I held Maya tightly.
Then she whispered something that made my heart ache.
“Mom, I think I want to go back to school.”
I pulled back.
“Really?”
She nodded.
“Maybe not full-time yet.”
I smiled.
“We can explore your options.”
Her eyes brightened.
“I miss my classes.”
I laughed softly.
“Only you would miss engineering homework.”
She giggled.
For the first time, I saw genuine excitement in her face.
That evening, we began planning her return.
Not because she had to prove anything.
But because she wanted her life back.
Then my phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
I answered.
A man's voice spoke.
“Major Carter?”
“Yes?”
“My name is Thomas Reed. I used to work for the Walker Education Foundation.”
I sat upright.
“What can I do for you?”
He hesitated.
“I heard about your daughter.”
My stomach tightened.
“Go on.”
“I have information about the scholarship payments.”
I took a breath.
“Have you contacted the investigators?”
“Not yet.”
“Then you should.”
He paused.
“Major, I need you to understand something.”
“What?”
“Margaret wasn't simply moving money between accounts.”
I felt my chest tighten.
He continued.
“She was using scholarship funds to cover losses connected to Ryan's company.”
I closed my eyes.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
“And I believe she ordered someone to destroy the records after Maya discovered them.”
I looked toward my daughter.
She was sitting at the dining table, smiling as she reviewed her university courses.
For the first time, her future looked bright again.
May you like
But the danger surrounding the evidence had not disappeared.
And I knew the next stage of the truth could be even bigger than we imagined.
