Chapter 4
I read Evelyn's message six times.
Your father's money isn't the only thing he stole.
I wanted to call her.
I wanted to demand answers.
Instead, I forwarded the messages to Simone.
She called within minutes.
"Don't respond yet."
"Why?"
"Because we don't know whether she's trying to help or trying to learn what evidence you have."
I hated that answer.
Mostly because it made sense.
Evelyn had spent years protecting Marcus.
Why would she suddenly turn against him?
Simone arranged a meeting through the attorneys.
Two days later, Evelyn arrived at a private conference room downtown.
She looked nothing like the woman from the ballroom.
No glittering gown.
No diamonds.
Just a gray cardigan, black pants, and eyes swollen from crying.
For the first time since I had met her, she looked her age.
Simone sat beside me.
Evelyn took the chair opposite us.
"How is Hope?"
"Safe," I answered.
She nodded.
"That's good."
Silence stretched between us.
Finally, I asked, "What did you mean about Marcus stealing something else?"
Evelyn opened her purse.
Her hands shook as she removed a sealed envelope.
"His father left him a business," she began.
I remembered Raymond Carter.
He had died eighteen months after Marcus and I married.
He was strict but kind to me.
He had once told Marcus that a man's character was measured by how he treated people who couldn't help his reputation.
Marcus had laughed.
Raymond hadn't.
"After Raymond died," Evelyn continued, "Marcus began changing the foundation's financial structure."
"Changing it how?"
"He moved donations into outside accounts. He told me it was for tax planning and investment management."
Simone leaned forward.
"Did you review the transactions?"
Evelyn lowered her eyes.
"I signed what he put in front of me."
My jaw tightened.
"Without reading it?"
"Sometimes."
"Even after people started asking questions?"
She looked startled.
"How did you know?"
I hadn't known.
Not until she said it.
"What people?"
Evelyn covered her mouth.
"Three employees left the foundation last year. One said money was missing from the scholarship program."
I remembered those employees.
Marcus had called them incompetent.
He said they had been fired for stealing.
"Did you investigate?" I asked.
Evelyn shook her head.
My stomach turned.
"Then what did you do?"
"I believed my son."
The words hung in the room.
I felt a terrible anger rising inside me.
"My father spent his life teaching poor children how to manage money. His inheritance was supposed to help me build a future."
Evelyn began crying.
"I know."
"No. You don't."
She flinched.
"Because if you knew, you wouldn't have stood there while Marcus treated me like I was nothing."
Simone placed a hand on my arm.
I drew a breath.
"Tell us what else he stole."
Evelyn pushed the envelope toward us.
Inside were copies of financial statements and correspondence.
She explained that Raymond had established a restricted scholarship fund before his death.
It was supposed to pay tuition for local students.
Last year, Marcus had transferred much of that money into a company he controlled.
"He told me the funds were being invested temporarily," she said.
"How much?" Simone asked.
"Nearly six hundred thousand dollars."
I covered my mouth.
Six hundred thousand dollars.
Money meant for students.
For young people who needed help.
I thought of all the speeches Marcus had made about opportunity.
All the photographs of him handing oversized scholarship checks to smiling teenagers.
All the times he had called himself a servant of the community.
I felt sick.
"Why are you telling us now?"
Evelyn stared at her hands.
"Because I saw him push you."
"You saw it then. You defended him."
She nodded, crying harder.
"I know."
"Why?"
Her answer came slowly.
"Because I was afraid of what would happen if the truth came out. I was afraid I would lose my son."
I leaned back.
"And I was afraid he would kill the part of me that still knew how to live."
She covered her face.
I didn't comfort her.
Some pain needed to be acknowledged before anyone could ask for forgiveness.
Simone took the envelope.
"We'll review these records. You should also speak with your own attorney before providing a formal statement."
Evelyn nodded.
Then she looked at me.
"There's something you should know about the night Hope was born."
My entire body went still.
"What?"
Evelyn hesitated.
"Marcus called me while you were in labor."
I remembered those hours.
The fear.
The contractions.
The way Marcus kept checking his phone.
I had begged him to stay beside me.
He left twice to take calls.
"He said the hospital needed paperwork signed," Evelyn continued.
I frowned.
"What paperwork?"
"Documents he claimed would simplify Hope's future inheritance."
My mouth went dry.
"He asked you to witness them?"
"Yes."
I stared at her.
"Did I sign those documents?"
Evelyn's face crumpled.
"Your name was already on them."
For a moment, I couldn't hear anything.
I remembered waking after delivery, exhausted and disoriented.
Marcus had held my hand.
He told me everything had been taken care of.
I thought he meant the hospital bill.
"What were the documents?"
Evelyn shook her head.
"I don't know all of them."
Simone spoke carefully.
"Do you have copies?"
"I found these in Raymond's old filing cabinet."
She handed Simone another folder.
I watched her open it.
The first page contained Hope's full name.
Hope Marie Carter.
My daughter's birth date.
A document purporting to establish a trust for her benefit.
And several pages describing assets connected to my inheritance.
My signature appeared on the final page.
I stared at it.
"I never signed this."
Simone studied the document.
"Then we'll need to verify how it was created and whether it was ever used."
I looked at Evelyn.
She was crying silently.
"Marcus tried to use our daughter to control the money?"
Evelyn couldn't answer.
But her silence told me enough.
I stood carefully.
My hip still ached.
"Thank you for bringing the documents."
She looked hopeful.
"Nia, can you ever forgive me?"
I looked at the woman I had once hoped would become a second mother.
"I don't know."
Her face fell.
"But if you really want to make things right, stop protecting Marcus from the consequences of what he's done."
Then I walked out.
That night, I held Hope against my chest until she fell asleep.
I thought about all the signatures.
All the lies.
All the times Marcus had told me he knew what was best for our family.
I was still afraid.
But now my fear had a direction.
May you like
I wasn't running away anymore.
I was moving toward the truth.
