Chapter 2 - The Secret Our Children Were Keeping
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
The parking lot seemed to tilt beneath my feet.
"What did you just say?"
Maya covered her mouth.
Jordan stared angrily at his sister.
"Maya, stop talking."
I opened the back door.
"Jordan, look at me."
He refused.
"Your sister just said Uncle Raymond told you we could lose our house. I need you to explain that."
Marcus appeared beside me.
"What is going on?"
Neither child answered.
I turned toward my husband.
"Raymond has been talking to them about our finances."
Marcus's expression hardened instantly.
"What?"
Maya burst into tears.
"Dad, please don't be angry!"
Marcus opened Jordan's door.
"Get out."
Jordan climbed out slowly.
My husband stood close enough to look into his eyes.
"What has my brother been telling you?"
Jordan's chin trembled.
"That you're in trouble."
"What kind of trouble?"
"Money trouble."
Marcus stepped backward.
I had seen him angry before.
I had seen him exhausted after working fourteen-hour days.
But I had never seen him look genuinely frightened.
"Jordan, tell me exactly what Raymond said."
Jordan wiped his eyes.
"He said your business was going bankrupt."
My stomach dropped.
Marcus owned a small but successful construction company.
He had spent fifteen years building it.
His business employed twenty-three people.
Our mortgage was manageable, and as far as I knew, our finances were stable.
Marcus shook his head.
"That's not true."
Jordan continued.
"He said you borrowed money from the wrong people."
"Who?"
"He wouldn't tell us."
Maya climbed out of the SUV.
"He said if you couldn't pay them back, they'd take our house."
Marcus looked from one child to the other.
"When did he tell you this?"
"Three weeks ago," Jordan whispered.
I felt sick.
Three weeks.
Our children had been living with this fear for three weeks.
And we'd known nothing.
Marcus rubbed his forehead.
"What does that have to do with your missing savings?"
Jordan glanced at Maya.
Then he whispered, "He said he could fix it."
Marcus lowered his hand.
"How?"
"He said he knew someone who could turn our savings into enough money to help you."
I closed my eyes.
"Oh, Jordan."
"He showed us an investment account," Maya said quickly. "It looked real, Mom. He showed us numbers and everything."
Marcus held out his hand.
"Your phone."
Jordan reluctantly unlocked it.
My husband searched through the messages.
I watched the muscles tighten along his jaw.
He read one.
Then another.
Then another.
Finally, he looked up.
"You sent Raymond your savings?"
Jordan nodded.
"How much?"
"Two thousand eight hundred dollars."
Marcus turned to Maya.
"Twenty-one hundred," she whispered.
Almost five thousand dollars.
Money our children had saved over years.
Money from birthdays, school achievements, and small gifts from grandparents.
Gone.
Marcus scrolled farther.
"Where did you send it?"
"To an investment platform."
"What platform?"
"Raymond said it was private."
Marcus showed me the screen.
The account name looked like a legitimate investment business, but something about the payment instructions seemed wrong.
The money had gone through an unfamiliar payment service into an account controlled by someone else.
And there was no evidence our children owned an actual investment.
I felt anger rise through my chest.
Not at Jordan.
Not at Maya.
At the grown man who had frightened them into giving away their savings.
"Why didn't you tell us?" I whispered.
Jordan's face twisted.
"Because he said Dad would be ashamed."
Marcus looked stunned.
"What?"
"He said you were too proud to ask for help."
Maya wiped her cheeks.
"And that if we told you, you'd stop us because you didn't want anyone knowing you were broke."
I moved toward her.
"Oh, baby."
She fell into my arms.
"I thought we were helping."
I held her tightly.
Across from us, Jordan stood with his hands clenched into fists.
He was trying not to cry.
Trying to look strong.
Just like his father.
Marcus approached him.
"Son."
Jordan stared at the ground.
"I know you think I'm stupid."
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
"I thought I could make enough to save the house."
His voice cracked.
"I just wanted you to be proud of me."
That broke something inside my husband.
He pulled Jordan into his arms.
For a moment, my sixteen-year-old son resisted.
Then he collapsed against his father's chest.
"I'm sorry, Dad."
Marcus held him.
"You should have come to us."
"I know."
"You should never have been carrying that fear alone."
Jordan began sobbing.
I turned away because I couldn't stop my own tears.
But the moment didn't last.
Marcus's phone rang.
The screen displayed Raymond's name.
We all went silent.
Marcus answered and switched to speaker.
"Raymond."
His brother sounded cheerful.
"Hey, big man! How's my favorite family?"
Marcus looked at our children.
"Where's the money?"
Silence.
Then Raymond laughed.
"What money?"
"The money you took from my children."
Raymond sighed.
"Marcus, don't start with accusations."
"Five thousand dollars. Where is it?"
"Your kids made an investment. They knew the risks."
Marcus's voice sharpened.
"They're minors."
"And surprisingly mature ones."
I couldn't stay quiet.
"You told them their father was losing our home!"
Raymond laughed again.
"Nia, you're overreacting."
"Answer the question!"
A pause.
Then his tone changed.
"Maybe Marcus should have kept his business problems private."
Marcus went completely still.
"What business problems?"
Raymond didn't answer.
"Funny thing about money, brother. Secrets always come out."
The call ended.
Marcus immediately called back.
No answer.
He tried again.
Straight to voicemail.
We got into the SUV.
Nobody spoke during the drive home.
When we arrived, Marcus asked the children to sit at the kitchen table.
He opened his laptop.
I stood behind him while he logged into his business accounts.
At first, everything looked normal.
Then he opened a folder of recent financial statements.
His face changed.
"That's impossible."
I leaned forward.
"What?"
He clicked another file.
Then another.
"Marcus?"
He turned the laptop toward me.
A company loan application had been submitted two weeks earlier.
The amount made my hands go cold.
One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
And attached to the application was a personal guarantee.
Bearing my husband's name.
I stared at the signature.
"Did you sign that?"
Marcus shook his head.
"No."
Jordan stood.
"Dad, what's happening?"
Marcus closed the laptop.
For the first time that afternoon, his voice was unsteady.
"Somebody's using my identity."
Then another notification appeared.
An overdue payment demand.
The lender claimed the money had already been released.
One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
And a payment was due in forty-eight hours.
Marcus stood so abruptly his chair scraped across the floor.
I reached for his arm.
"Who has access to your business information?"
He looked at me.
Then toward the family photograph above our fireplace.
There were five people in that picture.
Marcus.
Me.
Jordan.
Maya.
And Raymond.
My husband's face drained of color.
"Only one person outside the company ever had copies of those records."
I already knew the answer.
May you like
But I needed to hear him say it.
"My brother."
