Chapter 7
I called Nia back immediately.
No answer.
I tried again.
Nothing.
My mother appeared in the doorway.
"Marcus, what's wrong?"
I grabbed my car keys.
"Nia may be in trouble."
Mom's face tightened.
"Go."
I hesitated.
"Lock the doors after I leave."
She nodded.
"And call me when you find her."
I drove to the hotel where Nia and Diane were staying.
On the way, I called the front desk.
I explained that I was concerned about a possible disturbance and asked staff to check on the room.
By the time I arrived, a security guard was standing outside their door.
Nia sat on a chair in the hallway.
Her face was wet with tears.
A broken lamp had been placed on a housekeeping cart nearby.
Diane stood inside the doorway, arguing with the hotel manager.
When Nia saw me, she rushed forward.
"Marcus."
I stepped back instinctively.
She stopped.
That hurt her.
I could see it.
But after everything that had happened, I couldn't pretend we were still the same couple.
"Are you hurt?" I asked.
She shook her head.
"No."
"Did your mother hit you?"
"No. She threw the lamp."
The security guard confirmed that staff had responded after hearing shouting and breaking glass.
Diane looked at me.
"Well, look who finally decided to show up."
I ignored her.
"Nia, come downstairs with me."
Diane stepped into the hallway.
"She's not going anywhere until we finish talking."
Nia turned.
"Mom, please."
"Don't you dare take his side now."
I looked directly at Diane.
"She's an adult. She can decide where she goes."
Diane laughed bitterly.
"Of course you'd say that."
The hotel manager intervened.
"Ma'am, if the disturbance continues, we'll have to contact the police."
Diane fell silent.
Nia followed me downstairs.
We sat in a quiet corner of the hotel lobby.
She looked exhausted.
For a long time, neither of us spoke.
Finally, I asked, "What does your mother want?"
Nia stared at her hands.
"Money."
"How much?"
"Fifty thousand dollars immediately."
I almost laughed from disbelief.
"She owes one hundred and eighty thousand, and she thinks fifty thousand will solve everything?"
"She says it will keep the lender from taking further action while she negotiates."
"Where does she expect me to get it?"
Nia looked away.
I knew before she answered.
"My father's property."
I shook my head.
"We don't even know whether it has any value."
"She thinks it does."
"Why?"
Nia swallowed.
"Because she spoke to someone who wants to buy the land."
I leaned forward.
"What?"
"She found an investor."
"Who?"
"Someone named Richard Lawson."
I took out my phone.
"Did she sign anything?"
"I don't know."
"Did she represent herself as an owner?"
Nia hesitated.
"She told him she was handling the family estate."
My stomach dropped.
"She's not a member of my father's family."
"I know."
"Then she's lying."
Nia began crying again.
"I know."
I looked at her carefully.
"How long have you known about Richard Lawson?"
"Two weeks."
"And you didn't tell me?"
"I thought Mom would fix everything."
I closed my eyes.
That sentence explained far too much.
Nia had spent years treating her mother's problems like storms that would disappear if everyone simply cooperated.
I had watched her pay Diane's bills.
Cancel plans because Diane needed favors.
Apologize after Diane insulted her.
I had always assumed it was ordinary family loyalty.
Now I saw something else.
Fear.
"Why are you so afraid of disappointing her?" I asked.
Nia looked startled.
"What?"
"Your mother."
She shook her head.
"I'm not afraid."
"Nia."
She lowered her eyes.
Then she whispered, "You don't understand what happens when she's angry."
I waited.
She twisted the strap of her handbag.
"When I was little, she would stop speaking to me for days if I disappointed her."
My anger softened slightly.
"That sounds painful."
"She'd tell everyone I was selfish. Ungrateful. A terrible daughter."
A tear fell onto her dress.
"When I got my first job, she said I owed her money for raising me."
I stared at her.
"How much?"
"Half my paycheck."
"For how long?"
"Until I married you."
I remembered Diane's expensive birthday gifts.
Her frequent vacations.
The way Nia always became nervous when her mother called.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
Nia gave a broken laugh.
"Because I was embarrassed."
I leaned back.
Understanding her fear didn't erase what she had done.
But it explained why she had allowed terrible decisions to become worse.
"Nia, your mother has manipulated you for years."
She wiped her eyes.
"I know that now."
"You still had choices."
"I know."
"And you chose to hurt my mother."
Nia broke down.
"I did."
I waited while she cried.
Then I said the words she needed to hear.
"I can feel sorry for what happened to you and still hold you responsible for what you did to us."
She nodded.
"I understand."
I wasn't sure she truly did.
But it was the first time she hadn't tried to defend herself.
The following morning, Samuel called.
He had reached the attorney handling the old Charleston estate.
The news was complicated but promising.
My father's inherited interest had not disappeared.
The heirs had been identified, and the estate was moving toward final resolution.
My mother and I might have a legitimate claim through my father.
Samuel emphasized that ownership and value still required verification.
But the estate attorney had confirmed something alarming.
Richard Lawson had contacted the office.
And Diane Williams had attempted to present herself as my mother's authorized representative.
"Did my mother sign anything?" I asked.
"Not according to the records we've reviewed."
"Then how did Diane claim authority?"
Samuel paused.
"She submitted a document bearing Evelyn's signature."
I felt sick.
"Another forgery?"
"Possibly. We need the original document and a proper review."
I looked toward the kitchen.
My mother was sitting at the table, carefully repairing the sleeve of an old dress.
She looked peaceful.
She had no idea someone was using her name again.
I walked over.
"Mom, can you look at something?"
She put down her needle.
"Of course."
I showed her the document Samuel had sent.
She read it slowly.
Then her face turned pale.
"Marcus, I never signed this."
"I know."
She looked at me.
"Why would Diane do this?"
I sat beside her.
"Because she thought she could control something that belongs to our family."
Mom began shaking.
I took her hands.
"You're safe. Samuel is handling it."
She stared at the signature.
Then she said something I would never forget.
"Your father worked his whole life trying to leave you something. And now someone is trying to take even his memory away."
I held her while she cried.
Later that afternoon, Samuel called again.
This time, his voice sounded urgent.
"Marcus, we have a serious development."
"What happened?"
"Richard Lawson has agreed to meet with us."
"Good."
"There's something else."
I waited.
"He says Diane already received money."
My heart pounded.
"How much?"
"Twenty-five thousand dollars."
"For what?"
Samuel exhaled.
"According to Lawson, it was an advance payment connected to a proposed purchase of your father's inherited property."
I stared at the wall.
"And Diane accepted it?"
"Yes."
"Without owning the property?"
"That's what we need to establish."
I thought about the forged signatures.
The secret loan.
The transfer of our savings.
And the woman who had almost made my mother homeless.
For the first time, I realized this wasn't just a marriage falling apart.
May you like
It was a scheme that could leave several people financially devastated.
And Diane was running out of places to hide.
