Chapter 3
I stared at the signature until the letters blurred.
ARTHUR BENNETT.
It looked almost perfect.
But I'd watched Grandpa sign birthday cards for twenty-five years.
He always made the final T with a long horizontal line.
On this document, the line was short.
Almost stiff.
I looked up.
"Someone copied your signature?"
Grandpa nodded slowly.
"That's what I suspect."
My stomach tightened.
"Who?"
He looked toward the study door.
I followed his gaze.
Mom and Dad were still in the dining room.
Or at least, I hoped they were.
Grandpa took a breath.
"I don't want to accuse anyone without proof."
I nodded.
"Okay."
He continued.
"But I've spent six months trying to understand why money keeps disappearing."
My eyes filled.
"Why didn't you tell me?"
His expression softened.
"Because I didn't want to worry you."
I shook my head.
"Grandpa, we're talking about your money. And Grandma's trust."
He looked ashamed.
"I know."
Then he sat beside me.
"For years, I trusted Marcus to handle the company's accounts."
I nodded.
"He's your son."
"Yes."
Grandpa looked toward Grandma's photograph.
"And I wanted to believe he'd learned to be responsible."
My throat tightened.
"Did something happen before?"
Grandpa hesitated.
Then nodded.
"When Marcus was younger, he made some poor financial decisions."
I listened.
"He borrowed money without telling me. Invested in businesses he didn't understand. Promised returns he couldn't deliver."
My stomach tightened.
"Did you help him?"
Grandpa gave a sad smile.
"Many times."
I stared at him.
He continued.
"I told myself every mistake was a lesson."
I swallowed.
"But he kept making them."
Grandpa nodded.
"And eventually, I stopped asking enough questions."
For a moment, I didn't know what to say.
My father had always presented himself as successful.
He drove an expensive car.
Wore designer watches.
Took Mom on luxury vacations.
Whenever I asked about money, he told me I was too young to understand.
Now I wondered how much of that lifestyle had been paid for by Grandpa.
I looked at the bank statement.
"How much is missing?"
Grandpa took a slow breath.
"From the accounts I've reviewed, approximately three hundred thousand dollars remains unexplained."
My chest tightened.
"Three hundred thousand?"
He nodded.
"And there may be more."
I felt sick.
I thought about Grandma's letter.
The money she'd saved for me.
The choices she wanted me to have.
Then I remembered something.
Three years earlier, I wanted to attend a specialized nursing program in Baltimore.
It would have helped me qualify for advanced pediatric care.
The tuition was expensive.
I asked Dad whether Grandma had left anything for my education.
He laughed.
"Your grandmother left memories, Maya. Not a blank check."
I believed him.
I took out loans instead.
Now I felt anger rising.
Real anger.
Not the quiet frustration I'd swallowed for years.
I looked at Grandpa.
"Did Dad know about that program?"
He frowned.
"What program?"
I told him.
His expression changed.
"Maya, why didn't you come to me?"
My eyes filled.
"Because Dad said you couldn't afford it."
Grandpa stared.
"What?"
I swallowed.
"He told me your retirement savings were limited."
Grandpa covered his mouth.
For a moment, he looked devastated.
Then he whispered, "Sweetheart, I would've helped you."
I started crying.
"I know that now."
He took my hand.
"I am so sorry."
I shook my head.
"Don't apologize for what they did."
His eyes filled.
We sat quietly for several minutes.
Then a knock sounded.
Mom entered without waiting.
Her face was pale.
"Maya, can we talk?"
I looked at her.
"About what?"
She glanced toward the documents.
"Your grandfather is upset."
I stared.
"He's upset because money is missing."
Mom crossed her arms.
"You're making assumptions."
I took a breath.
"Then tell me where the money went."
She looked toward Grandpa.
"Arthur, you're letting her get involved in things she doesn't understand."
Grandpa's voice became firm.
"Diane, she has every right to understand her own trust."
Mom's expression hardened.
"That account has been managed for years."
I nodded.
"Apparently."
She glared.
"Maya."
I looked directly at her.
"Did you know Grandma left me four hundred thousand dollars?"
Mom hesitated.
Then whispered, "Yes."
My heart stopped.
"Since when?"
She looked down.
"Since the trust was established."
I felt tears rising.
"You knew?"
She nodded.
I stared.
"And you let me take out student loans?"
Her eyes filled.
"Maya, it wasn't that simple."
I laughed bitterly.
"Then explain what was complicated."
Mom pressed her lips together.
"Your father handled the finances."
I shook my head.
"That's not an answer."
She looked toward Grandpa.
Then back at me.
"He said the money needed to stay invested."
I swallowed.
"Did you know he was transferring it to his company?"
Her expression changed.
That tiny reaction told me everything.
I took a step backward.
"Mom?"
She began crying.
"I didn't know how much."
My chest tightened.
"But you knew?"
She nodded.
I felt sick.
For years, Mom criticized my spending.
Told me to save money.
Complained when I bought new shoes.
And now she was admitting she'd known about an inheritance I never received.
I looked at Grandpa.
His face was full of pain.
Then I asked Mom one final question.
"Did you ever think about telling me?"
She opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
I nodded slowly.
"That's what I thought."
She started sobbing.
"Maya, please."
I stepped away.
"I need space."
Mom looked toward Grandpa.
He shook his head.
"Give her what she asked for."
For once, Mom didn't argue.
She left.
I sat down again.
My hands were trembling.
Grandpa reached toward me.
I hugged him.
Then he whispered, "There's someone I want you to meet tomorrow."
I looked up.
"Who?"
"A lawyer named Naomi Brooks."
I frowned.
"Why?"
Grandpa looked toward the notebook.
"Because I changed my estate documents last week."
My heart tightened.
"And?"
He took a breath.
"I removed Marcus from control of my finances."
I stared.
"Does he know?"
Grandpa shook his head.
"Not yet."
My stomach dropped.
Then he continued.
"And I've asked Naomi to review the documents your parents submitted."
I looked at him.
"Do you think they'll try to stop you?"
Grandpa's eyes hardened.
"I think they've been trying for months."
He pointed toward the notebook.
May you like
Then toward the study door.
"And I think they already know what I've discovered."
