Chapter 5
The lawyer’s name was Nina Patel. She listened without interrupting while Sophie and I told her what had happened.
I had brought statements, transfer receipts, the housing cancellation notice, and Rebecca’s invoices. Nina sorted them into piles across her desk.
When I finished, she asked Sophie, “What do you want most right now?”
“To start school,” Sophie said. “And to stop wondering if my dad is lying every time he talks to me.”
Nina nodded. She explained what she could do and what she still needed to verify. The bank’s review would establish the transaction trail. She could advise me on separating our finances and protecting my access to money for our household. She could also help us seek records Mark had not shared.
I asked whether the bank could force him to return Sophie’s fund.
“He was a joint owner,” Nina said. “That affects the bank’s responsibility. It doesn’t settle what obligations he has to you and Sophie.”
It was less certain than I wanted. At least she said it plainly.
She advised me to preserve everything, including Mark’s messages, and to stop arguing with him over the phone. When I told her about the unfamiliar mortgage payment, she asked for the account number.
I gave her the receipt. She said she would request more information through the proper channels.
After the appointment, Sophie and I went to a café. She had barely touched her sandwich when Mrs. Chen called.
The emergency grant had been approved.
It wouldn’t replace her college fund, but it would cover her first tuition payment. The university had also extended the deadline for the balance while we worked out a plan.
Sophie pressed her hand over her mouth.
“Thank you,” she whispered into the phone.
When the call ended, she cried. Then she picked up her sandwich and took an enormous bite.
“Now I just need a bed,” she said.
We both laughed, though housing still frightened us.
That afternoon, Rebecca came to my parents’ house with a box of receipts. She looked as if she hadn’t slept.
“I met with my accountant,” she said. “Mark did some work. He helped with the lender and the contractors. But these charges are nowhere near what that work should cost.”
She handed me a list.
“I’m selling the second parcel of land,” she said. “I bought it for an expansion. If it sells, I can return part of Sophie’s money.”
Sophie’s face changed. “Will you lose the retreat?”
“I might have to make it smaller.”
“You didn’t know,” Sophie said.
“I know. But your money reached my business. I want to help put it back.”
I watched Sophie consider that. Anger had made everything simple for a day. The truth asked more of her.
“Thank you,” she said.
Rebecca left the box with Nina’s office. She also agreed to give the bank everything she had.
That evening, Mark came to my parents’ door.
My father answered. I heard their low voices from the kitchen. Then Dad came in.
“He wants to see Sophie.”
Sophie was beside me. I didn’t answer for her.
“I’ll talk to him on the porch,” she said. “You can stay by the door.”
Mark looked tired. He wore the same jacket he had worn to dinner at Rebecca’s.
“I heard you got a grant,” he said.
Sophie folded her arms. “Mom told you?”
“Your grandmother did.”
“Okay.”
“I’m glad. I want you to go to that school.”
“You canceled my room.”
He flinched. “I know.”
“Why didn’t you come to me first?”
“I thought I could fix the money before you found out.”
“So you took away the dorm too?”
“I couldn’t let you move in with no way to pay.”
“The school helped me more in one day than you did.”
He looked toward me. “Claire’s making this harder than it has to be.”
Sophie stepped back. “Don’t do that.”
“I’m only saying—”
“You’re talking about Mom because you don’t want to answer me.”
Mark’s shoulders fell. For a moment, I thought he might finally tell her everything.
Instead, he took an envelope from his pocket.
“There’s five thousand in here. It should help with your first month.”
Sophie didn’t reach for it.
“Where did it come from?”
“Does that matter?”
“Yes.”
Mark looked down at the envelope. “I borrowed it.”
“From whom?”
He wouldn’t say.
Sophie went inside. I stayed on the porch.
“Take it back,” I said. “If there’s money to return, send it through Nina so we know where it came from.”
His jaw tightened. “You’ve put a lawyer between me and my daughter.”
“You can still speak to her. She’s asking you honest questions.”
He left the envelope on the porch rail and walked away.
I didn’t touch it until Nina told me how to handle it. My father took a photograph of where Mark had left it, then placed it in a safe drawer.
The next morning, Nina called.
She had found a record connected to the mortgage payment. It belonged to a house in Rebecca’s county, but the property was not hers.
May you like
“Whose is it?” I asked.
“Mark’s,” she said. “He bought it last year.”
