Chapter 3
The first thing I did the following morning was call my attorney.
Daniel Reeves answered before the second ring.
"Marcus?"
"It's me."
There was a brief silence.
"Thank God. Denise told me you were safe."
"Safe from what, Daniel?"
He exhaled.
"That's what we need to discuss."
By ten o'clock, I was sitting in his office with Denise beside me.
My legs ached from the previous day's confrontation.
I had used my wheelchair to get from the parking garage into the building.
I wasn't ashamed of it.
For the first time, I understood that needing assistance didn't make me weak.
The weakness had never been in my legs.
It had been in my willingness to excuse cruelty.
Daniel spread several documents across his desk.
"Marcus, I need you to understand something before we begin."
I nodded.
"The conservatorship petition hasn't been filed. These are drafts."
"So Linda doesn't control anything yet?"
"Not through this process."
I released a breath.
"But there have been other developments."
Daniel opened another folder.
Three months before my accident, I had promoted Raymond to operations director at Bennett Development Group.
He had spent years drifting between jobs.
Linda begged me to help him.
"He's family, Marcus. He just needs someone to believe in him."
Against my better judgment, I agreed.
Raymond was charming.
Confident.
Good at convincing people he knew more than he did.
But he wasn't particularly disciplined.
I had caught accounting mistakes twice.
He always blamed someone else.
After the accident, I gave him additional temporary authority to manage routine projects while I recovered.
I trusted him.
That trust had apparently been expensive.
Daniel slid a bank statement toward me.
"Over the last eight weeks, Raymond authorized several payments to outside consulting firms."
I examined the figures.
Twenty-eight thousand dollars.
Forty-two thousand.
Sixty-one thousand.
My mouth went dry.
"What consulting firms?"
"Two newly established companies."
"Who owns them?"
Daniel looked at me.
"One is connected to Raymond."
I stared at him.
"And the other?"
"Linda."
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
Denise leaned forward.
"Are you saying Linda has been taking money from Marcus's business?"
"We have records showing payments to a company registered in her name," Daniel answered carefully. "We still need to establish who approved them and what services were supposedly provided."
I pressed my fingers against my forehead.
"This can't be happening."
Daniel's expression softened.
"Marcus, we need to protect the company."
I thought of my employees.
Of Carlos, who had worked beside me for eighteen years.
Of Tanya, who had stayed late every December to make sure everyone received their holiday bonuses.
Of the young apprentices we trained.
If Raymond had been draining company funds, innocent people could lose their livelihoods.
"What do we do?"
"First, revoke Raymond's financial authorization. Second, preserve the records. Third, bring in an independent forensic accountant."
"Do it."
Daniel nodded.
"I'll prepare everything."
I looked at Denise.
She took my hand.
"You're not alone."
Those words nearly destroyed me.
Because I hadn't realized how badly I needed to hear them.
After the meeting, Denise drove me to my rehabilitation appointment.
Dr. Brooks greeted me with a smile.
"How are my favorite stubborn legs doing today?"
I tried to smile back.
"Better than my heart."
Her expression changed.
We talked while she checked my movement.
I told her what had happened.
About Jasmine.
About Linda.
About the documents.
By the time I finished, my throat felt raw.
Dr. Brooks sat beside me.
"Marcus, recovery after a traumatic injury is emotionally complicated. People around you sometimes struggle too. But that doesn't excuse mistreatment."
I nodded.
"I keep wondering whether I caused this."
"How?"
"Maybe I gave Jasmine too much. Maybe I made things too easy."
She considered my words.
"Generosity can become unhealthy when boundaries disappear. But another person's cruelty remains their responsibility."
I looked down.
"I still love her."
"Of course you do."
"Even after what she said."
"Love doesn't disappear simply because someone disappoints us."
That afternoon, I received thirty-seven messages from Linda.
Some were apologies.
Others accused Denise of interfering.
Several demanded that I return home immediately.
Jasmine sent only one.
Are you really canceling my tuition?
I stared at the message for a long time.
Then I set my phone down.
At six o'clock, Raymond called.
I almost ignored it.
But curiosity won.
"Marcus! Brother! I've been trying to reach you."
His cheerful voice made my skin crawl.
"What do you want, Raymond?"
"Linda says there's been a misunderstanding."
"About what?"
"Everything, apparently."
I leaned back.
"Did Linda mention that I can walk?"
He laughed nervously.
"Man, that's amazing news."
"Did she mention that I found out about the conservatorship papers?"
Silence.
Then he said, "Look, those were just precautions."
"Precautions for whom?"
"Come on, Marcus."
I didn't speak.
Raymond cleared his throat.
"Your injury created uncertainty. We had to think about the future."
"The future of my company?"
Another silence.
I heard movement in the background.
Then Raymond lowered his voice.
"Listen. You don't want to make decisions while you're emotional."
"Is that what you were counting on?"
"What?"
"That I'd be too injured to question you?"
His voice changed.
"Be careful, Marcus."
I sat forward.
"Is that a threat?"
"I'm saying family matters should stay private."
"Then perhaps you shouldn't have involved my business."
He hung up.
I stared at the screen.
A few minutes later, Daniel called.
"I've reviewed the company's latest banking activity."
"And?"
"Someone attempted another transfer this afternoon."
My heart raced.
"How much?"
"One hundred and eighty thousand dollars."
I nearly dropped the phone.
"Was it successful?"
"No. The bank flagged it because we had already submitted the authority changes."
I closed my eyes.
"Raymond."
"His credentials were used."
I thought about the call.
About his sudden anger.
About the timing.
"Daniel, I want every account reviewed."
"We're already arranging it."
That evening, Denise made dinner.
She placed a plate in front of me and sat across the table.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then she said, "You remember what Mama used to tell us?"
I smiled sadly.
"Which part?"
"Never confuse being needed with being loved."
I looked down.
Our mother had died seven years earlier.
She adored Linda and Jasmine.
But she worried that I gave too much without expecting respect.
"She warned me," I whispered.
Denise nodded.
"She did."
Before I could answer, the doorbell rang.
Denise frowned.
"I wasn't expecting anyone."
She walked to the front door.
I heard a woman's voice.
Young.
Shaking.
"Please, I need to speak with Marcus Bennett."
Denise returned moments later.
Behind her stood a young woman holding a folder.
She wore a dark green jacket and looked terrified.
"Mr. Bennett?" she asked.
"Yes."
"My name is Natalie Price. I work in accounting at your company."
I immediately recognized her.
She had joined us six months earlier.
"What's wrong, Natalie?"
She looked over her shoulder.
Then she whispered, "I think Raymond knows I found the missing money."
My heart began pounding.
"What missing money?"
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Mr. Bennett, it isn't just a few payments."
She opened the folder.
May you like
"I think they've been stealing from you since before your accident."
And then she showed me a document bearing a signature that looked exactly like mine.
