Chapter 3
I stepped into a quiet hallway with Marcus and Tasha beside me.
The ballroom music faded behind the doors.
Attorney Samuel Brooks remained on the phone.
"Mr. Brooks," I whispered, "what evidence?"
He hesitated.
"Your grandfather documented several transactions involving Diane."
I closed my eyes.
"How many?"
"Enough that I strongly recommend we meet tomorrow morning."
I looked at Marcus.
He nodded encouragingly.
"Can you tell me whether my inheritance is safe?"
"At present, the funds remain in the estate account pending distribution. Your mother cannot lawfully redirect them merely by claiming you agreed."
I finally breathed.
"Thank you."
"But Nia, please don't sign anything she sends you."
"I won't."
"And preserve any messages concerning the inheritance."
I promised.
After ending the call, I leaned against the wall.
Tasha stood beside me.
She looked frightened.
"I don't understand."
I looked at her.
"Neither do I."
She swallowed.
"Mom said Grandpa hated me."
My heart tightened.
"What?"
"She said he thought I was irresponsible."
I stared at her.
Grandpa had loved both of us.
He attended our school performances.
He bought us books.
He taught us how to grow tomatoes in his backyard.
When Tasha turned sixteen, he gave her a beautiful silver bracelet engraved with her initials.
I remembered him crying at her graduation.
"He didn't hate you," I said.
Tasha wiped her cheeks.
"Then why didn't he leave me anything?"
I took her hand.
"I don't think we know the whole story."
She nodded.
Marcus approached.
"Nia, do you want to end the party?"
I looked through the ballroom doors.
Our friends were still gathered around the tables.
White roses decorated the stage.
The champagne tower glittered beneath the chandeliers.
This was supposed to be our night.
For months, I had imagined dancing with Marcus while our families celebrated the beginning of our marriage.
Now my mother's cruelty threatened to become the only memory.
I took a breath.
"No."
Marcus looked surprised.
"I want to stay."
He smiled gently.
"Then we stay."
I looked at Tasha.
"You too."
She stared at me.
"After everything?"
"You're my sister."
Her eyes filled with tears.
"I don't deserve that."
I squeezed her hand.
"We can talk about what happened. But you didn't slap me."
She began crying.
Then she hugged me.
For the first time in years, the embrace felt genuine.
We returned to the ballroom.
Marcus took my hand.
The band began playing our favorite song.
And despite my swollen cheek and the heaviness in my chest, I danced with the man I loved.
He pulled me close.
"You know what I was thinking?" he whispered.
"What?"
"Your grandfather would probably be proud of you tonight."
I looked up.
"Even after all this?"
"Especially after all this."
My eyes filled with tears.
Grandpa used to tell me that kindness wasn't the same as surrender.
He believed people could be generous without allowing others to control them.
I wished he were there.
I wished I could ask him why he left the money only to me.
Most of all, I wished I could hear his voice.
The next morning, Marcus drove me to Samuel Brooks's office.
Tasha came with us.
She had asked to attend because the records concerned her too.
Samuel was a distinguished Black attorney in his late sixties.
He wore a charcoal suit and thin gold-framed glasses.
When he saw me, his expression softened.
"You look so much like your grandfather when you're determined."
I smiled sadly.
"Thank you."
He invited us into his office.
Then he placed a thick folder on the table.
"Your grandfather was very concerned during the final year of his life."
I leaned forward.
"About Mom?"
Samuel nodded.
"He believed Diane had misrepresented how certain funds were used."
Tasha gripped my hand.
Samuel opened the folder.
The first document was a transfer confirmation.
Twenty thousand dollars.
Intended for Tasha's university expenses.
The next showed thirty-five thousand dollars for housing.
Another listed fifteen thousand for medical and educational emergencies.
The records continued.
In total, Grandpa had transferred one hundred and eighty thousand dollars to accounts controlled by Diane for Tasha's benefit.
I felt sick.
Samuel looked at Tasha.
"Did you receive any of these funds?"
She shook her head.
"Mom paid some expenses, but she always told me we were struggling."
He nodded.
"Your grandfather began asking questions when he learned you'd taken out substantial student loans."
Tasha began crying.
"I thought Grandpa wouldn't help."
Samuel's expression saddened.
"He believed he had already helped."
I looked at the records.
"Where did the money go?"
Samuel removed another document.
"A forensic review commissioned by your grandfather identified several transfers from Diane's accounts."
He pointed to the first.
Luxury jewelry.
Then another.
Designer clothing.
Private travel.
And a payment toward a condominium.
I stared at the condominium address.
I recognized it.
My mother had purchased an investment property three years earlier.
She claimed it came from an inheritance left by a distant relative.
My stomach turned.
"She used Grandpa's money?"
Samuel spoke carefully.
"The records indicate funds intended for Tasha were moved into accounts that financed unrelated purchases. The full legal significance requires review."
Tasha began sobbing.
"She let me take out loans."
I wrapped my arms around her.
"I know."
Samuel waited until she calmed down.
Then he opened another folder.
"Your grandfather also discovered something concerning his own signature."
I looked up.
"What?"
"A document was submitted to his bank authorizing Diane to make certain transfers."
My heart tightened.
"Did he sign it?"
Samuel shook his head.
"He denied signing it."
Silence filled the room.
Then Samuel placed a photograph on the table.
It showed a handwritten note from Grandpa.
I recognized his shaky handwriting immediately.
My girls deserve the truth, even if it breaks the family apart.
Tears blurred my vision.
Samuel continued.
"Your grandfather planned to confront Diane, but his health declined before the matter was resolved."
I swallowed.
"Did he report it?"
"He instructed us to preserve the evidence and investigate. Some matters were referred for review."
Then Samuel looked directly at me.
"Nia, there is one more thing."
My heart began pounding.
"What?"
He reached into the folder.
"Your grandfather left a separate letter for you."
I held my breath.
Samuel handed me a sealed envelope.
My name appeared across the front.
In Grandpa's handwriting.
I carefully opened it.
The first sentence made me start crying.
My beautiful Nia, I know your mother has spent years making you believe that loving your family means giving them everything.
I covered my mouth.
May you like
Then I read the next line.
But there is a secret about your childhood that explains why Diane has always treated you differently.
