Chapter 6
The next morning, I sat across from Renee with my grandmother's letter in my hands.
I had barely slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I imagined strangers moving furniture out of Grandma's house.
I imagined the yellow front door being painted another color.
The garden being destroyed.
The porch where she taught me to braid my hair disappearing beneath someone else's plans.
I knew a house was only a building.
But that house was different.
It was the one place where I had never been afraid to speak.
And my mother was trying to sell it.
Renee reviewed the information Arthur had provided.
Then she looked at me.
"Maya, we need to act quickly."
My stomach tightened.
"Can we stop the sale?"
"We can seek emergency relief while the ownership and estate questions are resolved."
I nodded.
"Please."
She continued.
"We'll also notify the appropriate parties that title is disputed."
I swallowed.
"Do whatever is necessary."
Renee leaned forward.
"There's something important I want you to understand."
I looked at her.
"This is a legal process. We need reliable records, not assumptions."
I nodded.
"Okay."
"Your mother's behavior at graduation was unacceptable. But the financial case has to be established through evidence."
I took a breath.
"I understand."
She smiled gently.
"Good."
By the end of the day, Renee had filed the necessary requests to protect the property while the court reviewed the estate records.
The proposed sale was paused.
I cried when she told me.
Not because everything was fixed.
But because Grandma's house wouldn't disappear while I was trying to find the truth.
Then the university contacted me again.
Dr. Reed wanted to discuss the scholarship investigation.
I arrived the following morning.
She greeted me warmly.
"Maya, we have additional information."
My heart pounded.
"What happened?"
She opened a folder.
"The altered payment instructions were submitted using credentials associated with a temporary administrative access session."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"Someone used access that should not have been available for that purpose."
I swallowed.
"Who?"
Dr. Reed hesitated.
"The records identify an employee who handled foundation documents."
My stomach tightened.
"Did my mother know that person?"
Dr. Reed nodded.
"We're investigating the connection."
I stared at her.
Then she continued.
"The employee has been placed on administrative leave pending review."
I felt sick.
My mother had always claimed she had important connections.
She used to tell me that success depended on knowing the right people.
Now I wondered whether those connections had helped her interfere with my education.
Dr. Reed looked at me.
"Maya, your academic record remains secure."
I nodded.
"Thank you."
She smiled.
"And I want to tell you something else."
I looked up.
"The department has nominated you for a community leadership award."
I froze.
"What?"
She smiled.
"Your internship supervisor submitted the nomination before graduation."
My eyes filled with tears.
"Really?"
"Yes."
I covered my mouth.
For years, my mother called my degree useless.
Now the university was recognizing the work I had done with vulnerable children.
I began crying.
Dr. Reed handed me a tissue.
"You earned this, Maya."
I smiled through my tears.
"Thank you."
That afternoon, I visited the nonprofit organization where I had completed my internship.
The director, Ms. Patricia Lewis, greeted me with a hug.
"Graduate!"
I laughed.
"Hi, Ms. Lewis."
She smiled.
"I heard about the ceremony."
My face burned.
"I'm sorry."
Her expression changed immediately.
"Why are you apologizing?"
I looked down.
"For the disruption."
She gently lifted my chin.
"Maya, you were mistreated. You don't need to apologize for someone else's behavior."
Tears filled my eyes.
I nodded.
She led me into her office.
Then she placed a folder on the desk.
"I have something for you."
I stared at it.
"What is it?"
"A job offer."
My heart stopped.
"What?"
She smiled.
"We have an opening for a family support coordinator."
I stared.
"Maya, your internship evaluations were exceptional."
I covered my mouth.
"We'd like you to join us."
I began crying.
For months, my mother had told me I would never find work with my degree.
Now I had an offer from the organization I admired most.
I looked at Ms. Lewis.
"Are you serious?"
She laughed.
"Very."
I hugged her.
"Thank you!"
She held me tightly.
"You earned it."
When I left the building, I called Jasmine.
She answered immediately.
"Girl, what happened?"
I laughed through tears.
"I got the job!"
She screamed.
"MAYA!"
I laughed harder.
"Yes!"
She shouted so loudly I had to move the phone away from my ear.
Then she began crying.
"I'm so proud of you."
I smiled.
For the first time, my future felt real.
I had a degree.
A job offer.
Friends who loved me.
And a chance to recover Grandma's house.
But that evening, the situation changed again.
Arthur called.
His voice sounded frightened.
"Maya, I need you to come somewhere."
My stomach tightened.
"Where?"
"Your grandmother's house."
I froze.
"What?"
"I'm standing outside."
"Why?"
He hesitated.
"Because someone is moving things out."
My heart stopped.
"What things?"
"Furniture. Boxes. Personal belongings."
I grabbed my keys.
"Is Mom there?"
"No."
I felt sick.
"Then who?"
Arthur swallowed.
"Your uncle Raymond."
I couldn't breathe.
"What's he doing?"
Arthur's voice broke.
"He's telling the movers the house belongs to him."
I rushed toward the door.
Jasmine followed me.
"Maya, what's wrong?"
I looked at her.
"My uncle is emptying Grandma's house."
Her face changed.
Then she grabbed her keys.
"I'm coming with you."
As we drove, I called Renee.
She advised me not to confront anyone physically and said she would contact the appropriate authorities and parties involved in the disputed property.
I agreed.
But my hands wouldn't stop shaking.
Twenty minutes later, we reached the familiar street.
I saw the yellow door.
The porch.
The garden.
And a moving truck parked in the driveway.
Two men were carrying Grandma's old dining table toward the truck.
My heart broke.
Then I saw Uncle Raymond standing beside the porch.
He wore an expensive gray suit.
He looked annoyed when I approached.
"Maya."
I stopped in front of him.
"What are you doing?"
He folded his arms.
"Handling family business."
I stared at him.
"This is Grandma's house."
He smiled coldly.
"Not anymore."
I felt my stomach tighten.
"What does that mean?"
He reached into his jacket.
Then he pulled out a document.
A deed.
My eyes dropped toward the signature.
Maya Washington.
I stopped breathing.
May you like
Because the document claimed I had transferred Grandma's house to my uncle.
And I had never signed it.
