Chapter 5
I stood frozen in the hallway.
Dad's words echoed through the house.
The night she left.
What really happened.
For four years, I'd believed Mom packed a suitcase and walked out because she was tired of being a mother.
Now I was beginning to understand that almost everything Dad told us might have been a lie.
Grandma stood near the living room window.
Dad faced her with his fists clenched.
He wasn't touching her.
But his anger filled the entire room.
“What happened that night, Marcus?” Grandma asked.
Dad laughed bitterly.
“You know what happened.”
“Then tell me.”
He looked away.
Grandma's voice hardened.
“Tell me why Nicole was afraid to come back.”
Dad's face changed.
I stepped into the room.
“Yeah, Dad. Tell us.”
Both of them turned.
Dad looked shocked.
“Malik, go upstairs.”
“No.”
His jaw tightened.
“I'm not asking.”
I felt my heart pounding.
For years, those words had been enough to make me obey.
Not anymore.
“I talked to Mom.”
Dad's face went pale.
Grandma moved toward me.
“Malik, sweetheart—”
“No, Grandma. I need answers.”
I looked at my father.
“Why did you hide her letters?”
Dad rubbed his forehead.
“Your mother and I had problems you don't understand.”
“Then explain them.”
“You're too young.”
“I'm old enough for you to demand my paycheck.”
His eyes flashed.
“Watch your mouth.”
I swallowed.
“I'm asking you a question.”
For a moment, I thought he might explode.
Then he looked toward Grandma.
“This is what you've done. You've turned my own son against me.”
Grandma shook her head.
“No, Marcus. Your actions did that.”
Dad's expression twisted.
He grabbed his keys from the table.
“I don't have to stand here and be accused.”
He headed toward the hallway.
Grandma stepped aside rather than block him.
“You can collect essential belongings with Denise present tomorrow,” she said. “And we'll make formal arrangements about the house.”
Dad stopped.
He looked at me one last time.
“You think your mother is some kind of angel?”
I didn't answer.
He gave a bitter smile.
“Ask her why she didn't take you with her.”
Then he left.
The front door slammed.
I stood staring at it.
Grandma came toward me.
“Malik.”
I shook my head.
“Why didn't Mom take us?”
Grandma's face filled with sadness.
“She didn't have the ability to simply take you away that night.”
“What does that mean?”
She sighed.
“Your parents had been fighting about custody and money. Things became complicated.”
I stared at her.
“Complicated how?”
Before she could answer, Maya appeared on the stairs.
Her face was pale.
“I heard everything.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“Maya—”
“Is Mom really coming?”
I nodded.
Her eyes filled.
“Tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
She began crying.
I hurried toward her.
She grabbed my arms.
“Does she still love me?”
The question shattered me.
I hugged her.
“More than anything.”
She sobbed against my chest.
“I thought she forgot my birthday.”
“She didn't.”
“I thought she didn't want to talk to me.”
“She did.”
Maya pulled back.
“Then why didn't Dad tell us?”
I had no answer.
Neither did Grandma.
That night, the three of us sat together in the living room.
Grandma showed Maya some of Mom's letters.
One contained a drawing of a pink birthday cake.
Another included a photograph from when we were little.
Mom had written messages on the back.
To my beautiful Maya. Never forget how loved you are.
My sister held the photograph against her chest.
Then she whispered, “I want my mom.”
Grandma pulled her close.
“She's coming, sweetheart.”
The next morning, we met Denise at the house.
Dad had agreed to retrieve some belongings while she supervised the exchange.
He arrived carrying a large black suitcase.
He barely looked at me.
Maya stayed upstairs.
Grandma spoke politely but firmly.
“Your essential clothes and personal items are packed.”
Dad looked toward his bedroom.
“I need my briefcase.”
Denise nodded.
“We can identify it and arrange an inventory of any documents that may belong to Evelyn or concern the disputed financial accounts.”
Dad's expression tightened.
“You have no right to go through my things.”
Denise remained calm.
“We're not asking you to waive your rights. We're trying to avoid further conflict.”
He turned toward Grandma.
“You're seriously treating me like a criminal?”
Grandma looked exhausted.
“I trusted you with my accounts, Marcus.”
He froze.
“What?”
“We found transfers I don't recognize.”
His eyes narrowed.
“Those were household expenses.”
“Then we can review the records together.”
Dad looked away.
I watched his shoulders stiffen.
Then he said something unexpected.
“Mom, I was going to pay you back.”
Grandma went completely still.
The room became silent.
Denise looked up from her notebook.
“Pay her back for what?”
Dad swallowed.
He seemed to realize what he'd admitted.
“It's complicated.”
Grandma's voice trembled.
“How much did you take?”
He didn't answer.
“Marcus.”
His eyes filled with anger.
“I was under pressure!”
“From whom?”
Dad shook his head.
“You wouldn't understand.”
I felt my stomach tighten.
“Dad, what did you do?”
He looked at me.
For one brief moment, I saw fear beneath his anger.
Then he looked toward the door.
“I need to leave.”
Denise stepped aside.
“That's your choice. We'll communicate about the remaining property through counsel.”
Dad grabbed his suitcase.
Before leaving, he looked back at Grandma.
“I never meant for any of this to happen.”
She stared at him.
“Then why did it?”
He didn't answer.
The door closed quietly behind him.
That frightened me more than another slam would have.
An hour later, my phone rang.
Mom.
“Malik?”
“Yeah?”
“I'm almost there.”
My heart started racing.
“How far?”
“About fifteen minutes.”
I couldn't breathe.
Four years.
Four years of birthdays.
Christmases.
School plays.
Basketball games.
Four years of wondering whether she'd ever come back.
Now she was fifteen minutes away.
I ran upstairs.
“Maya!”
She looked up from her bed.
“What?”
“Mom's coming.”
Her eyes widened.
“Right now?”
I nodded.
She jumped up so quickly she nearly tripped.
“What do I wear?”
I laughed through my tears.
“Anything.”
She looked at herself in the mirror.
Then began crying again.
“What if she doesn't recognize me?”
I hugged her.
“She will.”
We waited by the living room window.
Grandma sat nearby, holding a tissue.
Every passing car made my heart jump.
Then a silver sedan turned into our driveway.
The driver's door opened.
A woman stepped out.
She had shoulder-length curls and wore a simple blue blouse.
She looked older than I remembered.
More tired.
But I knew her immediately.
Mom.
Maya made a sound beside me.
Then she ran.
I followed.
Mom barely had time to close the car door before Maya threw herself into her arms.
“Mommy!”
Mom began sobbing.
“My baby.”
I stopped a few feet away.
My legs suddenly wouldn't move.
Mom looked up.
Her eyes met mine.
“Malik.”
I tried to speak.
Nothing came out.
She held out her hand.
“Come here, baby.”
I ran toward her.
And for the first time in four years, my mother wrapped her arms around me.
I buried my face against her shoulder.
She smelled different.
But her voice was the same.
“My boy,” she whispered.
“My beautiful boy.”
I cried harder than I had in years.
For a moment, everything else disappeared.
Dad.
The money.
The letters.
The arguments.
All I could feel was my mother's arms around me.
Then she pulled back.
She looked at my face.
Touched my cheeks.
Smiled through her tears.
“You've grown so much.”
I laughed weakly.
“You're shorter than I remember.”
She laughed and cried at the same time.
Then Grandma stepped onto the porch.
Mom saw her.
For a moment, neither woman moved.
Then Mom whispered, “Evelyn.”
Grandma's eyes filled.
“Nicole.”
Mom looked frightened.
“I didn't know if you'd want to see me.”
Grandma walked forward.
Then hugged her.
“I should have listened to you years ago.”
Mom broke down.
And while the four of us stood together in the driveway, I realized how much pain one man's lies had caused.
But our reunion wasn't the end.
Because that evening, Mom sat us down.
She took a deep breath.
Then she said something that made the room go silent.
“Malik, Maya, there's something about your father's past you both need to understand.”
I stared at her.
May you like
She reached into her handbag.
And pulled out a thick envelope marked with an attorney's name.
