Chapter 5
My mother lived nearly three hundred miles away.
Grandma couldn't drive that far anymore.
Which meant someone had taken her.
Dad made three calls from the parking lot.
On the fourth, he got an answer.
Aunt Denise.
Dad's younger sister.
He put the phone on speaker.
“Did you drive Mom to Arizona?”
Aunt Denise hesitated.
“That depends.”
Dad closed his eyes.
“Denise.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“She called me crying.”
Dad gripped the steering wheel.
“And you thought driving her across state lines was the answer?”
“She said you threw her out.”
“I did not throw her out.”
Aunt Denise went quiet.
Vanessa whispered, “Of course she said that.”
Dad heard.
“So Mom told you I kicked her out?”
“She said the house wasn't safe for her anymore.”
I stared out the window.
I couldn't believe it.
Grandma had sabotaged my scholarship.
Now she was the victim.
Dad's voice became cold.
“Did she tell you why we argued?”
Silence.
“Denise.”
“She mentioned something about Maya's college.”
Dad laughed once.
No humor.
“Call me when you're ready to hear the whole story.”
He hung up.
I felt exhausted.
“Why would she go to Mom?”
Dad looked at me.
“I don't know.”
Vanessa did.
“She wants backup.”
We both turned.
Vanessa shrugged.
“Grandma always does this.”
“What?”
“Finds someone who agrees with her before anyone else can explain.”
Dad stared at her.
“How do you know?”
Vanessa looked uncomfortable.
“Because she did it for me.”
Of course.
Every argument between Vanessa and me had somehow reached an aunt or cousin through Grandma's version first.
By the time anyone asked me about it, I was already the difficult younger sister.
Dad started the car.
“We're going home.”
“Aren't we going after her?”
“No.”
His answer surprised me.
“She chose to leave.”
He looked at me in the mirror.
“We are not chasing people who hurt us just because they're family.”
Those words stayed with me.
When we got home, Grandma's room looked almost untouched.
She had taken clothes, medication, and several framed photographs.
One thing was missing from her dresser.
A photograph of my mother and me when I was six.
I didn't like that.
At seven that evening, Mom called.
I stared at her name flashing across my phone.
Dad sat beside me.
“Your choice.”
I answered.
“Hi.”
“Maya.”
Her voice was sharp.
No hello.
No congratulations.
“Your grandmother is here.”
“I know.”
“What happened?”
I almost laughed.
“Did she tell you?”
“She says your father humiliated her.”
“Did she tell you she filed a false complaint with my university?”
Silence.
Then:
“She said she was trying to help.”
My chest tightened.
“Help who?”
“Your sister.”
“So you agree with her?”
“I didn't say that.”
Mom sighed.
“I just think your father gets aggressive when he's angry.”
Dad heard.
His jaw tightened.
I stood and walked toward the kitchen.
“This isn't about Dad.”
“It became about him when he threatened his own mother.”
“He didn't threaten her.”
“That's not what she says.”
I closed my eyes.
“What exactly did she say?”
“That he told her he would report her.”
“That part is true.”
Mom gasped.
“Maya!”
“She lied to a university and accused me of financial aid fraud.”
“That doesn't mean you turn family against each other.”
There it was.
The family rule.
Silence is loyalty.
Consequences are betrayal.
I was done.
“Mom, I almost lost a full scholarship.”
“You wouldn't have lost it.”
“You don't know that.”
“Your grandmother made a mistake.”
“No.”
My voice became steady.
“She made a choice.”
Mom grew quiet.
I continued.
“And Vanessa made choices too.”
Dad stepped into the doorway.
I could see how proud he was that I was speaking for myself.
Mom sighed again.
“What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“I didn't call you.”
She went silent.
“Grandma went to you because she wanted somebody to tell her she was right.”
“Maya—”
“I love her.”
My eyes filled.
“But I'm not pretending this didn't happen.”
Mom's voice softened.
“She's old.”
“So?”
“She worries about being alone.”
“So she gets to sabotage me?”
“No.”
It was the first clear answer Mom had given.
“No, she doesn't.”
I breathed.
“Then stop defending what she did.”
Mom didn't respond.
Finally, she whispered, “Okay.”
I hadn't expected that.
Then she said something else.
“There's something you don't know.”
My stomach tightened.
“What?”
“Your grandmother called me before she contacted your university.”
Dad came closer.
“When?”
“Three days ago.”
I swallowed.
“What did she say?”
“She asked whether I would tell the university that I helped pay your expenses.”
Dad's expression turned dark.
“And?”
“I said no.”
Relief.
Then anger.
“You didn't tell me?”
“I thought she was upset and wouldn't actually do anything.”
I laughed bitterly.
That seemed to be everyone's excuse.
I didn't think she'd actually do it.
Mom continued.
“But there's more.”
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“She asked me to send money to your father's account.”
“What?”
“She said if I made a transfer, it would make her story look true.”
Dad took the phone.
“Laura.”
Mom immediately sounded nervous.
“Marcus.”
“Did you send anything?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
Dad looked at me.
Something was wrong.
“What?” I asked.
Dad opened his banking app.
His face drained.
“There was a deposit yesterday.”
My heart stopped.
“How much?”
“Five hundred dollars.”
Mom shouted through the phone.
“That wasn't me.”
Dad clicked the transaction.
Then his expression changed.
The transfer wasn't from Mom.
It had come through an online payment service.
The sender's name was unfamiliar.
But the note attached to it made my blood run cold.
CHILD SUPPORT — MAYA.
Dad looked at Vanessa.
“Do you recognize this name?”
She stepped closer.
Then went completely pale.
“Yes.”
“Who is it?”
May you like
Vanessa swallowed.
“My boyfriend.”
