Chapter 6
I called Dad before I even reached my car.
He answered on the first ring.
"Maya?"
My voice shook.
"Denise came to my workplace."
His tone changed.
"What?"
"She tried to make me sign something."
"Are you safe?"
I looked around.
"Yes. She left."
"Don't follow her. I'm calling Rachel."
I sat inside my car and locked the doors.
For several minutes, I couldn't stop shaking.
I hated that Denise could still make me feel eighteen.
Small.
Powerless.
Afraid of being blamed for something I hadn't done.
But this time, I didn't hide.
I photographed the document.
Forwarded everything to Rachel.
And wrote down exactly what Denise said.
By evening, we were sitting in Rachel's conference room.
Dad looked furious.
Rachel studied the document.
Then turned toward me.
"Did you sign this?"
"No."
"Did Denise ask you to authorize anyone to represent you?"
"No."
Rachel nodded.
"Then this needs immediate attention."
Dad leaned forward.
"Her brother witnessed the signature."
Rachel examined the page.
"That's what the document claims."
I looked at her.
"Raymond has been living in our guesthouse."
She stopped.
"Since when?"
"About six months."
Dad looked surprised.
"I thought he was staying temporarily."
I stared at him.
"Dad, he moved furniture in."
He rubbed his forehead.
"Denise told me he needed a few weeks."
I almost laughed.
A few weeks.
Six months.
Every time I visited home, Raymond had another excuse.
His apartment flooded.
His landlord raised the rent.
His business partner disappeared.
He was always waiting for something.
And Denise always convinced Dad to help.
Rachel looked at us.
"Does Raymond have access to the main house?"
Dad nodded.
"Yes."
"Keys?"
"Yes."
"Any access to financial records?"
Dad hesitated.
"He helped Denise organize invoices."
My stomach tightened.
Rachel made another note.
"We need to examine his involvement."
Dad looked ashamed.
I watched him.
Then asked quietly, "Do you understand why I was upset?"
He looked at me.
"Yes."
I swallowed.
"For years, she called me irresponsible while letting her brother live here for free."
Dad nodded.
"I know."
"She told me I was using you."
His eyes filled.
"I'm sorry."
I wanted to believe him.
But trust wasn't going to return because he apologized once.
It would take time.
And actions.
Rachel advised us not to confront Raymond personally.
She arranged for proper notices and took steps to secure documents.
The next morning, Dad changed the access codes to his office.
He removed Raymond's authorization to use business accounts.
And he began reviewing every payment made to Denise's company.
Then something unexpected happened.
A former employee from Evergreen Lifestyle Management contacted Rachel.
Her name was Simone Harris.
She had worked as Denise's bookkeeper for eight months.
She said she'd seen the public posts.
And she was worried about what Denise might do next.
Rachel arranged a formal interview.
I wasn't present.
But Dad told me about it afterward.
Simone described unusual invoices.
Payments for services that never appeared to happen.
Transfers labeled as event expenses.
And documents signed using names of people who didn't seem to know about them.
My chest tightened.
"Did she mention me?"
Dad nodded.
"Yes."
I felt sick.
"What did she say?"
He took a breath.
"She remembers preparing paperwork with your name on it."
I stared at him.
"Why?"
"Denise told her you were helping with the business."
I laughed bitterly.
"I never worked for Denise."
Dad nodded.
"I know."
Then he looked down.
"Simone says Raymond was involved."
My stomach tightened.
"How?"
"He collected documents. He handled bank deposits. And he sometimes instructed her to send records directly to him."
I stared at Dad.
Raymond.
The man who greeted me with hugs.
The man who called me his favorite niece.
The man who once told me Denise was only trying to help me become independent.
He had been participating in something behind my back.
And I had trusted him enough to let him borrow my car.
I sat down slowly.
"How could they do this?"
Dad looked exhausted.
"I don't know."
I covered my face.
For years, Denise had accused me of treating Dad like an ATM.
Now evidence suggested she and Raymond had been using his money and my mother's trust for their own benefit.
The hypocrisy made me furious.
But it also made me sad.
Because I had once wanted Denise to love me.
I had bought her birthday gifts.
Helped plan her parties.
Invited her to my college graduation.
And all the while, she had apparently been using my name on documents I never saw.
That night, Dad asked if I wanted to have dinner together.
I hesitated.
Then agreed.
We ordered food from my favorite restaurant.
He set the dining table.
The same table where I'd slammed my phone days earlier.
I sat across from him.
For a while, we ate quietly.
Then he spoke.
"Maya, I want to tell you something."
I looked up.
"Okay."
"I've been meeting with a counselor."
I nodded.
"How is it?"
He gave a sad smile.
"Hard."
I almost laughed.
"Yeah."
He continued.
"She asked me why I always told you to keep the peace."
My chest tightened.
"What did you say?"
He looked down.
"Because I was afraid of another failed marriage."
I stared at him.
He swallowed.
"After your mother died, I felt like I'd failed to protect our family."
My eyes filled.
"I thought marrying Denise would give us a fresh start."
He looked at me.
"And when things went wrong, I convinced myself it was normal adjustment."
I swallowed.
"Even when I cried?"
His face crumpled.
"Yes."
I looked away.
That hurt.
But at least he was finally telling the truth.
He reached across the table.
"I was wrong."
I let him take my hand.
For the first time, I felt we might actually begin repairing what Denise had damaged.
Then his phone rang.
Rachel.
He answered.
After listening for several seconds, his expression changed.
"What do you mean they tried to sell it?"
My heart stopped.
He stood.
"Rachel, that property belongs to the trust."
I stared at him.
Then he looked directly at me.
May you like
His face was pale.
"Someone has listed the house for sale."
