Chapter 5
I didn't understand how someone could steal money from a child.
Money was supposed to buy groceries.
School clothes.
Medicine.
Things people needed.
Grandpa always told me money should never matter more than people.
But Grandma seemed to care about it more than anything.
I sat beside Aunt Renee while she spoke with Arthur on the phone.
I couldn't hear every word.
But I heard enough.
Transfers.
Trust account.
Missing funds.
Calvin.
Grandma.
My stomach hurt.
When Renee ended the call, I looked up.
"Is Mommy's money gone?"
She sat beside me.
"Some of it may have been used improperly."
I frowned.
"What does that mean?"
"It means adults who were supposed to manage money for your benefit may have used it for other things."
I thought about that.
"Like Grandma buying expensive dresses?"
Renee looked sad.
"We don't know exactly where all the money went."
I nodded.
Then whispered, "Can Grandpa fix it?"
The words escaped before I remembered.
He was gone.
I covered my mouth.
Renee pulled me close.
I began crying.
"I forgot."
She stroked my hair.
"It's okay, baby."
I sobbed against her shoulder.
For a moment, I hated everything.
The funeral.
Grandma.
The blue ledger.
The strange house.
The fact that Grandpa wasn't here to tell me what to do.
Renee held me until I calmed down.
Then she said something important.
"Your grandfather already started helping you."
I looked up.
"How?"
"He kept records. He contacted Arthur. He made arrangements for your care."
I wiped my cheeks.
"Like his promise?"
She nodded.
"Exactly."
I thought about the envelope.
Grandpa's handwriting.
The dark wax seal.
The words FOR MY LITTLE SUNSHINE.
I held Daisy tighter.
Maybe Grandpa had known he couldn't stay.
Maybe that was why he worked so hard to leave me something.
The next day, Arthur came to Renee's house.
He carried a folder and a small cardboard box.
I ran toward him.
"Did you find my bracelet?"
He smiled gently.
"Not yet."
My face fell.
"But I brought something else."
He opened the box.
Inside were several photographs.
Grandpa and me at the zoo.
Grandpa teaching me to ride my bicycle.
Grandpa holding my birthday cake.
I began crying.
Arthur sat beside me.
"These were in his desk."
I touched the photographs.
Then noticed a small envelope.
My name was written on it.
I looked up.
"Another letter?"
Arthur nodded.
"Yes."
I carefully opened it.
Inside was a note written in Grandpa's handwriting.
"My little sunshine,
If you're reading this, I wish I could be there to hold your hand.
I know you're scared.
I know there are things you don't understand.
But I want you to remember that you are loved.
You did nothing wrong.
You never have to earn your place in a family.
You already belong.
Be kind.
Be brave.
And whenever the world feels too big, remember that your grandpa believed in you.
Love always,
Grandpa."
I couldn't finish reading aloud.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
Then began crying.
Arthur looked away.
His eyes were wet.
Renee held me.
For a long time, nobody spoke.
Then Arthur asked whether he could talk privately with Renee.
I nodded.
I went into the next room to color.
But I could still hear their voices.
Arthur said the blue ledger contained records of transfers from a fund connected to my mother's estate.
Calvin had managed the account.
Grandma had approved several transactions.
Some money had gone to companies that appeared unrelated to my care.
The records also showed Grandpa had begun asking questions months earlier.
He requested statements.
Contacted a financial adviser.
And instructed Arthur to review the accounts.
Then he changed his estate plan three days before he died.
I stopped coloring.
My heart pounded.
Grandpa had been trying to protect me.
Then I heard Renee ask a question.
"Could Evelyn have caused Marcus's death?"
The room went silent.
I held my breath.
Arthur answered carefully.
"We have no evidence of that. Marcus had serious medical problems. But Thomas wants the medical records reviewed because of Maya's account of what she heard."
I stared at the paper.
I didn't want to imagine Grandma hurting Grandpa.
Even though she'd been cruel to me.
Even though she'd taken my belongings.
Even though she wanted me gone.
Grandpa had loved her once.
I knew that.
He kept a photograph of their wedding on his desk.
Sometimes he looked at it quietly.
I used to ask why Grandma never smiled like that anymore.
He always changed the subject.
Later, Arthur returned to the living room.
He looked tired.
I stood.
"Can I ask something?"
He nodded.
"Of course."
I swallowed.
"Did Grandpa know Grandma was stealing?"
Arthur sat beside me.
"He knew there were serious questions about how money was being handled."
I frowned.
"Why didn't he stop her?"
Arthur took a breath.
"Sometimes adults need time to understand what happened and gather evidence."
I looked down.
"But he died."
Arthur's eyes filled.
"Yes."
I began crying.
He placed a hand on my shoulder.
"But he made sure the investigation could continue."
I nodded slowly.
Then I asked something that surprised him.
"Will Grandma go to jail?"
Arthur hesitated.
"That depends on what the evidence proves and what the authorities decide."
I looked at him.
"Is it bad that I don't want her to?"
He shook his head.
"No, Maya."
I wiped my cheeks.
"Even though she was mean?"
"You can be hurt by someone and still have complicated feelings about what happens to them."
I nodded.
I didn't understand all of it.
But I knew one thing.
I wanted Grandma to stop hurting people.
I wanted my mother's money protected.
And I wanted my home back.
That afternoon, Renee took me to a counselor.
Her name was Dr. Michelle Brooks.
She had kind eyes and a soft voice.
Her office had colorful cushions and a shelf full of toys.
She asked about Grandpa.
I told her everything.
The pancakes.
The promises.
The funeral.
Grandma pulling my wrist.
The suitcase I thought I'd have to pack.
Then she asked whether I felt safe.
I thought carefully.
"With Aunt Renee."
She nodded.
"And at Grandpa's house?"
I looked down.
"Only when Grandpa was there."
My eyes filled.
Dr. Brooks gave me a tissue.
Then said something that stayed with me.
"Your home should be a place where you feel protected, Maya."
I nodded.
"And if it doesn't feel that way, the adults responsible for you need to make changes."
I stared at her.
"Can they?"
She smiled gently.
"They can try."
For the first time, I believed maybe things could get better.
But that evening, Uncle Thomas arrived looking frightened.
He asked Renee to speak privately.
I watched them from the hallway.
Thomas held a folded document.
His hands were shaking.
Then I heard him say something that made my stomach drop.
"The doctor found a problem with Marcus's medication records."
Renee covered her mouth.
I froze.
Thomas continued.
"Someone requested an early refill using Evelyn's authorization."
May you like
My heart pounded.
Because suddenly, the questions about Grandpa's final days became something the adults could no longer ignore.
