Chapter 4
I did not know I had a college fund.
I knew Grandpa used to give me coins and tell me to save them. Before he died, he bought me a globe and said I should see more of the world than he had.
I didn’t know he left money for that.
Dad held my phone against his ear.
“How much did the notice say?” he asked Maya.
Mom stood.
“It wasn’t a withdrawal. It was a transfer.”
Dad raised his hand, asking her to wait.
I watched her walk to the sink and back.
When he ended the call, he looked at me.
“Grandpa set aside money for your education. I help manage it.”
“Is it gone?”
“I’m going to check.”
Mom spoke quickly.
“I moved part of it to make it grow faster.”
“You weren’t authorized to do that.”
“I thought you’d understand when the returns came.”
“How did you access it?”
She looked away.
Dad repeated the question.
“Claire.”
“I had the account information.”
“That doesn’t explain authorization.”
Her hands began to shake.
I looked at Aunt Renee.
She touched my shoulder.
“Come sit in the living room.”
I shook my head.
“It’s my money.”
Nobody spoke.
Dad looked at me carefully.
“You’re right. But you don’t need to hear every adult detail tonight. I will tell you what happens.”
“Will you really?”
His face changed.
“Yes.”
I believed he meant it.
Renee sat with me while Dad and Mom talked.
I could hear enough to know something bigger had happened.
Then Dad said, “You used my signature.”
Mom started crying again.
I stared at the television, which wasn’t turned on.
The dark screen showed my reflection and Renee beside me.
I looked like a little kid.
I had never hated that before.
The next morning, Dad took time off work.
Mom stayed with her sister, Aunt Paula. Dad told me it was temporary while they worked out what to do.
“Did you make her leave?” I asked.
“We decided we needed separate places for now.”
“Did she want to?”
“She agreed.”
I wanted to ask whether agreeing counted if someone was crying.
Instead, I ate my cereal.
Dad called the financial company. He put the call on speaker after asking whether it was okay for me to hear.
The woman explained that money had been withdrawn using documents bearing Dad’s name. Some of the funds remained in an account that could be restricted while they investigated. Other money had already moved elsewhere.
Dad asked for copies of everything.
He sounded calm.
His leg bounced beneath the table.
After the call, he sat beside me.
“Twenty-eight thousand dollars was moved,” he said.
I did not know what twenty-eight thousand looked like.
“Is that a lot?”
“Yes.”
“Will I still go to college?”
“I will do everything I can to make that happen. We also have people helping recover what was taken.”
“Did Mom take it?”
“She arranged the withdrawal without permission.”
“Why?”
“She says she believed Darius could earn money with it.”
“Did he?”
“I don’t know yet.”
He didn’t hide behind words I couldn’t understand.
That helped, even though every answer hurt.
We met a lawyer named Ms. Carter that afternoon.
Dad brought papers in a blue folder. Renee came too.
Ms. Carter shook my hand and asked whether I wanted to sit with Dad or wait in the reception area.
“With Dad.”
She explained that Grandpa’s account had rules. Mom could not simply sign Dad’s name because they were married.
Darius could not make the transfer legal by calling it an investment.
I understood that part.
At school, signing someone else’s name got you in trouble.
Adults apparently had bigger papers to sign.
Ms. Carter asked Dad to preserve messages and records. She would contact the financial company and help him report the false documents.
On the drive home, Dad asked whether I wanted to speak with the school counselor.
“Am I acting weird?”
“No. Something upsetting happened. You deserve someone to help you talk about it.”
“I can talk to you.”
“You can. You can also talk to someone who isn’t part of the problem.”
I thought about that.
“Okay.”
Mom called that evening.
I answered from my room.
“How are you, sweetheart?”
“Dad says twenty-eight thousand dollars moved.”
She went quiet.
“He shouldn’t burden you with numbers.”
“I asked.”
“I was trying to help your future.”
“You didn’t tell me.”
“It was supposed to be a surprise.”
I looked at Grandpa’s globe.
“Was Dad supposed to be surprised too?”
She began to cry.
I wanted to comfort her.
But I could not think of anything true to say.
After we hung up, I found Dad in the kitchen.
“I think Mom wants me to make her feel better.”
He set down his cup.
“That is not your job.”
I sat beside him.
“Then whose job is it?”
“She has to get help from adults and take responsibility herself.”
May you like
I rested my head against his arm.
For once, being a child sounded like permission instead of an insult.
