Chapter 1
My grandmother grabbed my wrist so hard that I cried out in the middle of my grandfather's funeral.
"Grandpa said I could stay!"
I tried to pull away.
But Grandma Evelyn tightened her grip and dragged me away from the enormous photograph standing beside the white flowers.
"He's gone, Maya!"
Her voice was sharp enough to silence the people standing nearby.
Then she bent toward me.
"You don't belong here anymore."
I was only nine years old.
I had buried my mother two years earlier.
And now I was standing in a room full of strangers, watching the only other person who had ever made me feel completely safe disappear behind a photograph.
My grandfather.
Marcus Carter.
Everybody called him a successful businessman.
Some people called him generous.
Others called him difficult.
But to me, he was just Grandpa.
He was the man who braided my hair badly when Grandma refused to help.
The man who made pancakes shaped like hearts.
The man who sat beside my bed when nightmares woke me.
And the man who promised I would never have to leave his house.
I looked toward his photograph.
He wore his favorite brown suit.
His gray beard was neatly trimmed.
And he was smiling the same smile he gave me every morning.
I wanted him to step out of that picture.
I wanted him to tell Grandma to stop.
But he couldn't.
Grandma pulled me again.
"Come on."
I stumbled.
"You're hurting me!"
Several mourners turned.
A woman near the refreshments whispered something.
Grandma noticed.
Her face changed immediately.
She released my wrist and straightened her black dress.
Then she smiled at the guests.
"Maya is exhausted. It's been a difficult day."
I stared at her.
She had spent the entire funeral smiling at people.
Accepting hugs.
Thanking visitors.
Pretending she was heartbroken.
But when nobody important was watching, she spoke to me as though I were a problem she couldn't wait to get rid of.
I rubbed my wrist.
"Grandpa promised me something before he died."
Her smile disappeared.
"Stop that."
I shook my head.
"He did."
"Maya."
"He said I could stay here."
Her eyes narrowed.
"You misunderstood him."
"No!"
My voice cracked.
"He told me this was my home."
Grandma pointed toward the entrance.
"Stop lying and leave."
I felt my stomach twist.
Leave?
Where was I supposed to go?
My mother, Danielle, was dead.
I didn't know my father.
Grandpa had told me that my father left before I was born.
I had lived with Grandpa and Grandma since Mom died.
My bedroom was upstairs.
My clothes were in the closet.
My schoolbooks were on the desk.
My stuffed rabbit, Daisy, was still sitting on my pillow.
How could Grandma tell me I didn't belong?
I looked around the reception room.
Black dresses.
Dark suits.
White roses.
Silver trays filled with sandwiches nobody seemed hungry enough to eat.
People stared.
But nobody stepped forward.
My eyes burned.
"Please, Grandma."
She looked away.
"Don't embarrass me."
I swallowed.
"Where am I supposed to go?"
She leaned closer.
"That's not my problem."
Something inside my chest broke.
I wanted to scream for Grandpa.
Instead, I whispered his name.
"Grandpa..."
Then a deep voice came from behind the crowd.
"Nobody is leaving."
Everybody turned.
A tall man with a gray beard walked toward us.
He wore a black funeral suit and carried a thick manila envelope.
Dark wax sealed the flap.
I recognized him.
Arthur.
Grandpa's lawyer.
He had visited our house several times.
Grandpa always welcomed him into the library.
Sometimes they talked for hours.
Arthur was serious, but he was always kind to me.
Whenever he visited, he brought a peppermint from the candy shop near his office.
That afternoon, he wasn't smiling.
Grandma froze.
"Arthur."
He stopped beside me.
"Evelyn."
She looked at the envelope.
"What are you doing?"
Arthur ignored her question.
He turned toward me.
"Maya, sweetheart."
I wiped my cheeks.
"Yes, sir?"
He lowered himself slightly so we were looking at each other.
"Your grandfather left instructions for you."
My heart jumped.
"Grandpa?"
Arthur nodded.
"Yes."
I stared at the envelope.
My hands began trembling.
Grandma stepped forward.
"Arthur, this is inappropriate."
He looked at her.
"Marcus gave me specific instructions."
She reached toward the envelope.
"Give that to me."
Arthur moved it away.
"This is addressed to Maya."
Grandma's expression hardened.
"I'm her grandmother."
"And she's the person named on the envelope."
He looked directly at her.
"Not you."
The room fell silent.
I had never heard anybody speak to Grandma that way.
She was used to getting what she wanted.
At home, she decided what everybody ate.
Where they sat.
Who could visit.
And when I was allowed to speak.
Even Grandpa sometimes grew quiet when she became angry.
But Arthur didn't move.
He placed the envelope in my hands.
It felt heavy.
Grandpa's handwriting was on the front.
FOR MY LITTLE SUNSHINE, MAYA.
My throat tightened.
That was what he always called me.
His little sunshine.
I traced the letters with one finger.
Then I began crying again.
Arthur touched my shoulder.
"Take your time."
Grandma looked furious.
"She's a child. She cannot understand legal documents."
Arthur spoke calmly.
"Marcus understood her age."
He looked around at the guests.
"And he understood why these instructions needed witnesses."
Grandma's face went pale.
I carefully broke the dark wax seal.
The envelope opened.
Inside were several folded pages.
I pulled out the first one.
There were words I didn't understand.
Trust.
Beneficiary.
Property.
I looked up at Arthur.
"What does this mean?"
He took a slow breath.
"Your grandfather changed his will three days before he died."
Grandma grabbed the back of a chair.
"That's impossible."
Arthur looked toward her.
"It was properly signed and witnessed."
Her lips trembled.
"Marcus was sick."
"He was evaluated and understood the decisions he was making."
I stared between them.
I didn't understand why Grandma was so frightened.
Arthur looked at me again.
"Maya, your grandfather made arrangements to protect you."
I swallowed.
"What arrangements?"
He pointed toward the document.
"The house and everything inside it have been left for your benefit."
My mouth fell open.
"The house?"
Arthur nodded.
"Yes. A trustee will manage it until you're old enough."
I stared toward the staircase.
My bedroom was up there.
Grandpa's books.
Mom's pictures.
The little kitchen where he made pancakes.
Everything.
Grandma shook her head.
"No."
Arthur continued.
"Your grandfather wanted to make certain you would always have a home."
Tears rolled down my face.
I looked at Grandpa's photograph.
"You promised."
My voice broke.
"You really promised."
Then I noticed another paper inside the envelope.
It was smaller.
Folded twice.
And written across the front were two words.
FOR EVELYN.
I looked up.
"Arthur?"
He turned.
"Yes, Maya?"
I held the folded paper.
"There's another letter."
Grandma's eyes widened.
I looked at her.
"It has Grandma's name on it."
Her face changed completely.
For the first time that day, she looked terrified.
Arthur didn't reach for the letter.
He simply stared at it.
Then Grandma whispered something that made my skin turn cold.
"Marcus wasn't supposed to find that."
I looked from her to Arthur.
"What wasn't Grandpa supposed to find?"
Nobody answered.
May you like
And suddenly, I understood that Grandpa had left more than a house.
He had left a secret.
