Chapter 2
I had spent eight years believing my mother chose to disappear from my life.
Now my wife was telling me she had been in an accident.
And that she was lying in a hospital asking for me.
I stared at Claire.
"What accident?"
She wiped her cheeks.
"Marcus, please calm down."
I felt anger rise.
"Do not tell me to calm down."
Malik flinched behind me.
I immediately lowered my voice.
I turned toward him.
"Son, I'm sorry."
He looked up.
His cheek was still red.
I touched his shoulder gently.
"None of this is your fault."
His eyes filled with fresh tears.
"Okay, Dad."
I looked toward Maya.
"Take your brother into the living room."
She hesitated.
"Dad..."
"Please. Stay with him."
Maya nodded.
She wrapped an arm around Malik and led him away.
When they were out of the kitchen, I faced Claire.
"Now tell me everything."
She sat slowly.
For the first time in seventeen years of marriage, my wife looked like a stranger.
She stared at her hands.
"Your mother was involved in a car accident three weeks ago."
I gripped the back of a chair.
"Where?"
"Outside Richmond."
My stomach tightened.
"Virginia?"
She nodded.
I stared at her.
"How do you know?"
Claire swallowed.
"Someone called me."
I felt cold.
"Who?"
"A social worker."
I stared.
"Why would a social worker call you instead of me?"
Claire began crying.
"Because my number was listed as the family contact."
I shook my head.
"That doesn't make sense."
She looked away.
I leaned forward.
"Claire, stop hiding things."
She covered her face.
"Your mother had been living in Virginia."
I swallowed.
"Alone?"
Claire hesitated.
"Not exactly."
My heart began pounding.
"What does that mean?"
She looked up.
"She was living with a woman named Ruth Carter."
I frowned.
"Who is Ruth?"
"An old friend."
I stared at her.
"How long?"
"Several years."
I felt sick.
My mother had spent years living only a few hours away.
And I had believed she wanted nothing to do with me.
I sat down.
"Why didn't she contact me?"
Claire looked at the table.
"She tried."
The words cut through me.
I stared at her.
"What?"
She began crying harder.
"She sent letters."
My chest tightened.
"Where are they?"
Claire didn't answer.
I slowly stood.
"Claire."
She whispered, "I kept them."
For a moment, I couldn't move.
Then I asked, "How many?"
She looked ashamed.
"Twenty-three."
I stared at her.
Twenty-three letters.
Twenty-three chances to hear from my mother.
Twenty-three times my wife decided I didn't deserve the truth.
I pressed my hands against the table.
"Where are they?"
Claire pointed toward the hallway.
"In my closet."
I walked past her.
She followed.
"Marcus, please."
I didn't answer.
I entered our bedroom and opened the closet.
Claire moved toward a high shelf.
She pulled down a small wooden box.
Then handed it to me.
I opened it.
Inside were envelopes.
Some yellowed.
Some newer.
Every one addressed to me.
Marcus Bennett.
My mother's handwriting.
I recognized it immediately.
My knees weakened.
I sat on the edge of the bed.
I picked up the first letter.
The postmark was eight years old.
I opened it.
My hands shook.
My dearest Marcus,
I don't know what Claire has told you.
But I would never abandon you or your children.
Please call me.
I need to explain something important.
I love you.
Mom.
I covered my mouth.
Tears ran down my face.
I opened another.
Marcus,
I've called so many times.
The number I had no longer works.
I went to your house, but Claire said you didn't want to see me.
Please tell me that isn't true.
I began sobbing.
My mother believed I had rejected her.
I had spent years believing she rejected me.
And Claire had stood between us, controlling the truth.
I looked up.
"Why?"
Claire was crying.
"Marcus..."
"WHY?"
She sat beside me.
I moved away.
She flinched.
"I was scared."
I stared at her.
"Of what?"
She wiped her cheeks.
"Your mother found out about the money."
My heart tightened.
"The money Grandma left Malik?"
She nodded.
I closed my eyes.
My mother had been a successful nurse for more than thirty years.
She wasn't wealthy.
But she saved carefully.
When Malik was born, she created a small trust for his future.
I remembered signing paperwork.
I remembered her smiling.
"This little boy is going to college whether the world likes it or not."
I had trusted Claire to handle the administrative details.
I was working long hours then.
We had just purchased our house.
Money was tight.
And I believed my wife would never take from our children.
I looked at her.
"How much?"
Claire swallowed.
"Marcus..."
"How much?"
Her voice cracked.
"One hundred and eighty thousand dollars."
The room seemed to spin.
I stared at her.
My mother had saved that much?
And Claire had taken it?
I could barely breathe.
"What did you do with it?"
She looked down.
"I helped my brother."
I went still.
"Daniel?"
She nodded.
My brother-in-law, Daniel Price, owned a small property investment company.
He drove expensive cars.
Wore designer suits.
And constantly boasted about his business success.
I had never trusted him.
But Claire always defended him.
I stared at her.
"You gave our son's money to Daniel?"
She began crying harder.
"He promised he'd return it."
I shook my head.
"Did he?"
She whispered, "No."
I felt something break inside me.
Then I remembered Maya's letter.
She said Grandma knew.
I looked at Claire.
"What happened when my mother found out?"
Claire covered her face.
I waited.
Finally, she whispered, "She threatened to report us."
My stomach tightened.
"Us?"
Claire looked up.
"Daniel and me."
I stared at her.
She began sobbing.
"Marcus, I didn't want to lose you."
I shook my head.
"So you lied."
She nodded.
"And you made my mother disappear from our lives."
She began crying harder.
"I told her if she came back, I'd make sure you believed she stole the money."
I couldn't speak.
My mother had tried to protect her grandson.
And my wife had threatened to destroy her reputation.
I slowly stood.
"I'm going to the hospital."
Claire reached for my arm.
"Marcus, please."
I pulled away.
"Don't touch me."
Her face crumpled.
I turned toward the door.
Then I stopped.
"Which hospital?"
She whispered the name.
St. Mary's Medical Center.
Richmond, Virginia.
I took out my phone.
I called my sister, Rebecca.
She lived in Charlotte.
We had barely spoken since our mother's disappearance.
The distance between us had grown after Claire told me Rebecca sided with Mom.
Now I wondered how many other lies had divided us.
Rebecca answered after the third ring.
"Marcus?"
Her voice sounded surprised.
I swallowed.
"Becca."
There was a pause.
"What's wrong?"
I struggled to speak.
"Mom's alive."
Silence.
Then Rebecca whispered, "What?"
I closed my eyes.
"She's in the hospital."
My sister began crying.
"Oh, God."
I gripped the phone.
"Did you know?"
She sobbed.
"I've been trying to tell you for years."
My chest tightened.
"What?"
Rebecca's voice cracked.
"Marcus, Mom never abandoned you."
I began crying harder.
"I know."
She took a breath.
"Where is she?"
I told her.
Rebecca immediately said she was coming.
Then she whispered something that made my heart stop.
"Marcus, before you see her, there's something you need to know."
I stared at the wall.
"What?"
Rebecca hesitated.
"Mom didn't just discover the missing trust money."
My stomach tightened.
"What else?"
My sister began crying again.
"She found documents showing Daniel had been using your identity."
I couldn't breathe.
"For what?"
Rebecca whispered, "Loans."
I stared at the phone.
May you like
Then she said the words that made everything worse.
"Marcus, your house might not even belong to you anymore."
