Chapter 5
Dad arrived at Grandma's house less than an hour later.
He looked exhausted.
His eyes were red.
His black T-shirt was wrinkled.
But the moment he saw me, he walked straight over.
"Show me."
I handed him my phone.
He read Tasha's messages.
His jaw tightened.
Then he read them again.
"What does she mean by your college money?"
I shook my head.
"I don't know."
Grandma stood beside us.
"Marcus, how much is in Maya's college account?"
Dad hesitated.
"Last time I checked, around ninety thousand dollars."
My mouth fell open.
"Ninety thousand?"
He nodded.
"I've been saving since you were born."
My eyes filled.
"I didn't know it was that much."
Dad gave a sad smile.
"Your mother and I wanted you to have options."
Grandma touched my shoulder.
"Your mama was very proud of how smart you were."
I swallowed.
"But Denise said there wasn't enough money for college applications."
Dad stared at me.
"What?"
"Last month, I asked if we could pay the application fees for three universities. She told me I needed to stop dreaming about expensive schools."
His face changed.
"She said we couldn't afford it?"
I nodded.
"She said I should apply to community college and get a job."
Dad closed his eyes.
Grandma shook her head.
"Lord, help me."
Dad immediately called Peter.
Within minutes, they arranged to meet at the bank.
Grandma insisted on coming.
I went too.
I refused to be left behind.
The bank manager greeted Dad warmly.
Her name was Angela Price.
She'd known him for years.
After verifying our identities and reviewing the account permissions, she began examining the records.
I sat beside Dad.
My heart raced.
Angela frowned.
"Mr. Carter, when was the last time you reviewed this account?"
Dad looked uncomfortable.
"About two years ago."
She nodded slowly.
"And you gave your wife administrative access?"
"Yes."
Angela studied the screen.
"There have been several withdrawals."
Dad leaned forward.
"How many?"
"Six significant withdrawals over the past eighteen months."
My stomach dropped.
"How much money is left?"
Angela took a breath.
"Approximately twelve thousand dollars."
For a moment, nobody moved.
Ninety thousand dollars.
Reduced to twelve thousand.
Dad stared at her.
"That can't be right."
Angela turned the screen slightly.
"These are the recorded transactions."
Grandma covered her mouth.
I felt like the room was spinning.
Seventy-eight thousand dollars.
Money my parents had saved for my future.
Gone.
Dad's voice cracked.
"Who withdrew it?"
Angela explained that the transactions had been submitted through an authorized account user, though the bank would need to review the circumstances and account agreements.
Dad looked devastated.
"Denise."
Angela remained professional.
"We can begin a formal review and document your dispute."
Dad nodded.
"Do it."
I sat completely still.
My college dreams had always felt fragile.
Now I understood why Denise kept telling me to lower my expectations.
She hadn't simply wanted me to believe I couldn't attend a good university.
She'd apparently been helping herself to the money intended to get me there.
I started crying.
Dad turned toward me.
"Maya."
I shook my head.
"Why?"
My voice broke.
"Why would she do this?"
He reached for me.
I pulled away.
Not because I hated him.
Because I was overwhelmed.
"You promised me I could go to college."
His eyes filled.
"You still can."
"How?"
He swallowed.
"I'll find a way."
I looked at him.
"But you already saved the money."
He nodded.
"And I should have protected it."
I stared at the floor.
For the first time, I wasn't just hurt by Denise.
I was angry at my father too.
He'd trusted her with everything.
The household accounts.
The business records.
My college savings.
My future.
And he'd never checked whether I was actually being cared for.
The ride home was silent.
When we reached Grandma's house, I went straight to the guest bedroom.
I closed the door.
Then I cried until my chest hurt.
A few minutes later, Grandma knocked.
"Sweetheart?"
I wiped my cheeks.
"Come in."
She entered carrying a cup of tea.
She sat beside me.
"Your daddy feels terrible."
I looked down.
"I know."
"You're allowed to be angry with him."
I stared at her.
"Really?"
She nodded.
"Love doesn't mean pretending someone didn't hurt you."
I started crying again.
"I don't want him to think I hate him."
Grandma wrapped her arms around me.
"Then tell him the truth."
I leaned against her.
"I just wish he'd believed me before it got this bad."
She kissed my forehead.
"Then that's exactly what you need to say."
That evening, Dad came into the room.
He knocked first.
"Can we talk?"
I nodded.
He sat on the edge of the bed.
For a long time, he didn't speak.
Then he looked at me.
"I'm sorry."
I swallowed.
"You keep saying that."
He nodded.
"I know."
"Do you know what hurts the most?"
His eyes filled.
"What?"
I took a shaky breath.
"Not the money."
He looked surprised.
"It's that I kept telling you Denise was mean to me, and you never believed me."
His face crumpled.
"I thought you two were adjusting."
"I wasn't adjusting. I was surviving."
He covered his mouth.
Tears rolled down his cheeks.
I continued.
"Every time she hurt me, I wondered if you would care. And every time you defended her, I felt like I mattered less."
Dad began crying.
"I'm so sorry, baby."
I wiped my face.
"I needed my dad."
He reached for my hand.
"I'm here now."
I looked at him.
"I need you to stay."
He nodded.
"I will."
We hugged.
It didn't erase everything.
But it was the first honest conversation we'd had in years.
The following morning, Dad received a call from Daniel.
He stepped outside to answer.
When he returned, his expression was serious.
"There's been a development."
Grandma looked up.
"What happened?"
Daniel had obtained additional business records.
They showed that Silver Oak Properties had made payments toward a townhouse mortgage.
The townhouse was registered under Tasha's company.
But there was another discovery.
Several payments had gone to a man named Raymond Ellis.
Dad didn't recognize the name.
Neither did Grandma.
But I did.
I'd seen it once before.
On a birthday card that arrived for Denise last year.
The card had been tucked inside a bouquet of roses.
I remembered because Denise became furious when I picked it up.
She snatched it from my hands and told me never to touch her mail.
I looked at Dad.
"I know that name."
He turned toward me.
"How?"
I swallowed.
"Someone named Raymond sent Denise flowers."
Dad went very still.
"When?"
"Last year."
His expression changed.
"What did the card say?"
I closed my eyes.
I tried to remember.
Then the words came back.
"To the woman who should have been mine."
Dad stared at me.
And suddenly, I understood why Denise had looked so frightened when he discovered the missing money.
May you like
Because the person she'd been sending it to might not have been a business partner.
He might have been another man.
