Chapter 2
The number on the bank statement was twenty-eight thousand five hundred dollars.
I read it once.
Then again.
My daughter's college savings account had been drained of nearly everything she had spent eight years protecting.
I gripped the dining room chair.
“Denise.”
She stepped backward.
“Marcus, let me explain.”
I looked at the statement.
A transfer had been made three weeks earlier.
Twenty-eight thousand five hundred dollars.
Transferred to an account whose last four digits I recognized immediately.
Denise's personal checking account.
I stared at her.
“You took money from Maya's college fund?”
She lifted her hands.
“It was temporary.”
I felt my stomach twist.
“Temporary?”
“I was going to put it back.”
“When?”
She looked away.
“Soon.”
I heard Maya begin crying behind me.
I turned toward her.
“Baby, how did she get access?”
Maya wiped her face.
“She told me you wanted her added to the account.”
I closed my eyes.
The account had originally belonged to Maya's mother, Nicole.
Before Nicole died, she had arranged for the savings to be placed in a custodial account for Maya's education.
When Maya turned sixteen, I helped her transition the money into a youth savings arrangement with restrictions requiring proper authorization.
I had trusted Denise with household paperwork during several extended work trips.
Apparently, that trust had been used against us.
“Did you sign anything?” I asked Maya.
She nodded.
“Some forms.”
“What kind?”
“I don't know. Denise said they were for updating my school information.”
My heart dropped.
I looked back at my wife.
“You had my daughter sign banking paperwork without explaining it?”
Denise crossed her arms.
“She's not stupid, Marcus.”
I stepped toward her.
“Don't you dare blame her.”
“She should read things before signing them.”
Maya began sobbing.
I turned immediately.
“No, baby. Listen to me.”
I took her hands.
“You trusted someone who was supposed to protect you. That does not make this your fault.”
She shook her head.
“I should've told you sooner.”
I felt tears burning behind my eyes.
“You're telling me now.”
She leaned against my chest.
I wrapped my arms around her.
For a moment, I forgot everyone else in the room.
I remembered Nicole holding Maya as a newborn.
I remembered her singing while rocking our daughter to sleep.
I remembered the hospital room where she made me promise that Maya would always know she was loved.
And now I was standing in my dining room, holding a terrified seventeen-year-old who had been robbed inside her own home.
“Dad,” Maya whispered, “I thought you'd be mad.”
I closed my eyes.
“Never at you for this.”
Behind us, Denise sighed loudly.
“Can we stop acting like I stole from a stranger?”
I turned slowly.
“What did you just say?”
“She lives in this family. Families share resources.”
I stared at her.
“Then explain why you didn't take money from Brandon or Tasha.”
Denise looked toward her children.
“They don't have savings like Maya.”
“And whose fault is that?”
Brandon shifted near the kitchen.
“Marcus, Mom was just trying to help us.”
I looked at him.
“Help you with what?”
He glanced at Denise.
She shook her head.
“Brandon, don't.”
I turned back toward him.
“Tell me.”
He swallowed.
“The business.”
“What business?”
“Tasha's clothing business.”
I stared at Tasha.
She immediately looked down.
I remembered Denise mentioning that Tasha wanted to open an online boutique.
I had offered to help her prepare a business plan.
She declined.
Said she wanted to do things independently.
Now I understood why.
“How much money did you receive?” I asked.
Tasha's face reddened.
“I didn't know where it came from.”
“How much?”
She hesitated.
“Twenty thousand.”
I felt the floor shift beneath me.
“Twenty thousand dollars?”
Tasha nodded.
Brandon looked uncomfortable.
“The rest went toward equipment for my recording studio.”
I stared at him.
“You have a recording studio?”
He looked away.
“In the garage.”
I remembered the boxes that had arrived during my last business trip.
Denise told me they were gifts from Brandon's father.
I had believed her.
I turned toward Denise.
“So you took Maya's college savings to finance your children's hobbies?”
Tasha snapped, “It's a real business!”
I looked at her.
“Then you should understand what it means to steal someone else's capital.”
She fell silent.
Denise stepped forward.
“Don't talk to my children like that.”
I laughed bitterly.
“Your children are adults. Maya is seventeen.”
She pointed toward my daughter.
“And she's always had everything handed to her!”
Maya flinched.
I moved between them.
“Enough.”
Denise's eyes flashed.
“You spoil her because Nicole died.”
The room went silent.
My chest tightened.
“Don't mention Nicole.”
“Someone has to say it!”
I stared at her.
“Say what?”
“You've spent years making Maya feel special because you feel guilty about her mother.”
I felt something inside me break.
“You think loving my daughter is guilt?”
Denise folded her arms.
“You know what I mean.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“I don't think I do.”
Maya whispered, “Dad, please.”
I turned toward her.
She looked terrified.
Not of me.
Of what Denise might do next.
I took a breath.
“Go upstairs and pack a small bag.”
Maya's eyes widened.
“Am I leaving?”
“No, baby. We're going somewhere safe for tonight while I sort this out.”
She nodded.
Then she hurried upstairs.
I watched until she disappeared.
When I turned back, Denise was smiling.
“You see? She's manipulating you.”
I stared at her.
“You think my daughter is manipulating me because she told me you took her money?”
Denise shrugged.
“I think she's trying to turn you against me.”
I pulled out my phone.
“I'm calling the bank.”
Her smile disappeared.
“Marcus, don't.”
“Then I'm calling an attorney.”
She stepped forward.
“We can handle this privately.”
I looked at her.
“You already had four months to handle it privately.”
“Please.”
For the first time, she sounded afraid.
I studied her face.
“Denise, where is the rest of the money?”
She glanced toward Brandon.
Then toward Tasha.
Neither spoke.
“Answer me.”
Denise swallowed.
“Some of it is gone.”
“How much?”
Her eyes filled.
“Most of it.”
I felt my chest tighten.
Before I could respond, Maya appeared at the top of the stairs.
She was holding a small wooden jewelry box.
“Dad?”
I looked up.
“What is it, sweetheart?”
Her voice trembled.
“I think she sold Mom's necklace too.”
The room went completely silent.
May you like
I turned toward Denise.
And for the first time since discovering the missing money, I saw genuine fear in her eyes.
