Chapter 3
I thought my mother was going to faint.
She stood beside the grand staircase with tears in her eyes while my father stared at her like she had betrayed him.
For twenty-two years, Claire Carter had been the calmest person in our family.
She smiled through arguments.
She changed the subject when Dad became angry.
She told me to be patient whenever Maya received something I didn't.
But now she looked exhausted.
As though she had spent years holding a secret too heavy to carry.
“Mom,” I whispered, “what do you mean?”
She opened her mouth.
My father stepped forward.
“Claire, I am warning you.”
She turned toward him.
“No, Marcus. You've warned me enough.”
His expression darkened.
Several guests quietly began moving toward the doors.
Mr. Bennett approached me.
“Nia, I recommend we secure these documents and continue somewhere private.”
This time, I agreed.
Not because Dad wanted secrecy.
Because I no longer wanted strangers watching my life fall apart.
I asked our guests to leave.
Nobody argued.
Within twenty minutes, the mansion was almost empty.
Only my parents, Maya, Mr. Bennett, and I remained in the sitting room.
The Rolls-Royce still stood in the garage.
Its enormous red bow looked ridiculous now.
I sat on the sofa with my grandfather's letter in my lap.
My mother sat across from me.
My father stood beside the fireplace.
Maya paced behind him.
Mr. Bennett opened his folder.
“Let's begin with the earliest documented issue.”
Dad laughed sharply.
“You're enjoying this, aren't you?”
The attorney ignored him.
“Nia, when you were eleven years old, your grandfather established an education account in your name.”
I blinked.
“An education account?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“One hundred and fifty thousand dollars initially.”
I stared at him.
My father had refused to help pay for college.
He told me student loans would teach responsibility.
I worked weekends throughout high school.
I skipped vacations.
I sold handmade jewelry online.
And all that time, I had an education account?
“What happened to it?”
Mr. Bennett looked at my father.
“Substantial withdrawals were made using documentation that appears to have included forged authorization.”
My mouth went dry.
“By who?”
“The transactions were initiated through accounts controlled by your father.”
I turned toward Dad.
“Is that true?”
He folded his arms.
“That money stayed in the family.”
I felt something break inside me.
“That wasn't my question.”
He looked away.
I stood.
“Did you take my college money?”
He sighed.
“Nia, I paid for the roof over your head.”
I almost laughed.
“You're my father!”
“And I supported you.”
“You were supposed to!”
His face reddened.
“Watch your tone.”
For the first time, I didn't lower my eyes.
“No.”
He stared at me.
I took one step closer.
“You made me feel selfish for asking for help with tuition.”
He said nothing.
“You watched me work two jobs.”
“Nia—”
“You watched me cry because I thought I couldn't afford school!”
My voice cracked.
“And you had taken money Grandpa saved for me?”
My mother began crying.
Maya suddenly interrupted.
“Why are you acting like Dad spent it on himself?”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
She shrugged.
“He probably used it for the family businesses.”
Mr. Bennett looked down at his records.
“Some of the withdrawals were transferred into accounts associated with the businesses.”
I felt a strange hope.
Maybe Maya was right.
Maybe the money had stayed in investments.
Then the attorney continued.
“Other withdrawals appear linked to personal expenses, including a vehicle purchase and luxury travel.”
I looked at Maya.
She slowly stopped pacing.
“What vehicle?” I asked.
Mr. Bennett checked the file.
“A Mercedes-Benz purchased four years ago.”
My sister's face changed.
Her graduation gift.
The white Mercedes Dad gave her when she turned eighteen.
I remembered that day.
He handed her the keys in front of our entire family.
When I asked whether I could borrow one of his older cars for college, he told me to save my own money.
I sat down.
My legs felt weak.
“So her first car came from my education account?”
Mr. Bennett answered carefully.
“The records show a transfer matching that purchase from an account that received funds withdrawn from your education trust.”
Maya looked at Dad.
“Tell them that's not true.”
He said nothing.
Her face twisted.
“Daddy!”
My father slammed his palm against the mantel.
“Enough!”
We all jumped.
“I made financial decisions for this family!”
I stared at him.
“You made them with my money.”
He pointed at me.
“Without my businesses, none of you would have this lifestyle!”
I looked around the luxurious room.
The marble floors.
The expensive paintings.
The furniture nobody was allowed to touch.
Then I thought about my tiny apartment.
My secondhand car.
My student loan statements.
“This was never my lifestyle,” I said quietly.
He had no answer.
My mother stood.
“Marcus, tell her about the hospital settlement.”
Mr. Bennett looked up sharply.
My stomach tightened.
“What hospital settlement?”
Dad's face drained.
“Claire.”
She ignored him.
“Nia, do you remember the accident when you were fourteen?”
I nodded slowly.
Of course I remembered.
I had been riding in a car with my aunt when another driver ran a red light.
I spent two weeks in the hospital.
My left leg required surgery.
For months, I walked with a brace.
I still had a scar just below my knee.
“Dad told me the insurance barely covered my treatment.”
My mother began crying harder.
Mr. Bennett opened another section of the file.
“Nia, there was a personal injury settlement.”
I stared at him.
“How much?”
“Three hundred and twenty thousand dollars, before attorney fees and related expenses.”
The room seemed to spin.
I gripped the sofa.
“Where did it go?”
My father looked toward the window.
I followed his gaze.
The garage.
The Rolls-Royce.
The ridiculous red bow.
I whispered, “Dad?”
He didn't answer.
Mr. Bennett looked troubled.
“We need additional records to determine how those settlement funds were managed.”
My mother shook her head.
“I saw the deposit.”
I turned toward her.
“What?”
“Marcus told me it was needed to rescue the dealership.”
My father spun around.
“You agreed!”
“I agreed because you told me it was temporary!”
Her voice broke.
“You promised to replace it!”
I stared at them.
They had argued about my money.
Years ago.
While I was recovering from surgery.
While I believed the accident had left us struggling financially.
I felt sick.
I stood and walked toward the door.
“Nia,” my mother called.
I stopped.
“Please.”
I turned.
“Did you know?”
She began shaking her head.
“Not everything.”
“Did you know I had college money?”
Her silence answered.
Tears filled my eyes.
“Did you know I was taking out loans?”
She covered her face.
I stepped backward.
“You watched me struggle.”
“Nia, I was afraid of what your father would do if I challenged him.”
I looked at her.
“And what about what he was doing to me?”
She began sobbing.
I wanted to hug her.
I wanted to tell her everything was fine.
That was what I always did.
I made everyone else comfortable.
Even when they hurt me.
But this time, I couldn't.
I turned toward the front door.
Mr. Bennett followed me.
“Nia, there's something important you need to know.”
I stopped outside beneath the stone archway.
He held out a business card.
“Your grandfather appointed an independent trustee to review suspicious transactions.”
I looked up.
“Who?”
“A financial investigator named Rebecca Lawson.”
“Where is she?”
“Here in Atlanta.”
I stared at him.
“Why didn't she contact me?”
His expression became serious.
“She tried.”
My heart pounded.
“When?”
“Several times during the past eight months.”
I shook my head.
“I never received anything.”
Mr. Bennett looked toward the mansion.
“Someone appears to have intercepted correspondence addressed to you.”
I felt cold.
Then he said something even worse.
“Rebecca also discovered that your name was used to authorize a business loan you may know nothing about.”
I stared at him.
“What loan?”
He hesitated.
“A loan secured by assets in your trust.”
“How much?”
His eyes filled with concern.
“Nearly two million dollars.”
I couldn't breathe.
“And Nia,” he added, “the lender has already issued a default notice.”
For several seconds, I simply stared.
Then I understood why Dad looked terrified when Mr. Bennett arrived.
May you like
He wasn't only afraid I would discover what he had taken.
He was afraid I would discover what he had put in my name.
