Chapter 3
I drove to my mother's house because it was the only place I could think clearly.
Denise had raised me alone after my father abandoned us when I was eleven. She worked two jobs, sacrificed vacations, and wore the same winter coat for seven years so I could finish college without drowning in debt.
She had never asked me to become rich.
She only wanted me to build a life where I wouldn't have to struggle the way she had.
When she opened the door, one look at my face made her smile disappear.
"Baby, what happened?"
I tried to answer.
Nothing came out.
She pulled me inside and wrapped her arms around me.
I stood there in my expensive suit, holding everything together until I couldn't anymore.
Then I told her.
The canceled interview.
The forged documents.
Keisha's confession.
The threatening messages.
My mother listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she sat beside me.
"Do you still love her?"
The question surprised me.
I looked down at my hands.
"Yes."
"That doesn't mean you have to trust her."
I swallowed.
"I don't know what to believe anymore."
"Then stop trying to decide everything today. Start by protecting yourself."
Those words steadied me.
I opened my laptop and changed my email password, banking passwords, and every account Keisha might have accessed. I enabled two-factor authentication and saved copies of the fraudulent documents.
Then I contacted my former supervisor, Marcus.
He answered on the second ring.
"Andre! I heard you were interviewing for that director position. How did it go?"
I closed my eyes.
"That's why I'm calling."
I explained the fabricated conversation.
Marcus went quiet.
When I finished, his voice had changed.
"Andre, somebody sent me a strange email this morning."
My heart began pounding.
"What did it say?"
"It claimed you were preparing to expose misconduct at your former company. It included screenshots of our supposed conversation."
"Did you believe it?"
"No. I know how you communicate, and I know you wouldn't threaten me like that. But I forwarded it to our legal department."
I leaned forward.
"Did you recognize the sender?"
"It came from an account with your name attached, but the address wasn't yours."
I asked him to forward everything.
A few minutes later, another email arrived.
The message contained the same fake conversation, along with a paragraph claiming that I had been dismissed from my previous job for financial misconduct.
That had never happened.
I'd left voluntarily after the company reorganized its operations.
Marcus had even written my recommendation letter.
Someone wasn't merely trying to stop me from attending an interview.
They were building a false history around me.
I called the recruiter's office again and requested that all communication remain in writing. I also contacted an attorney recommended by Marcus.
Her name was Elaine Brooks.
By late afternoon, I was sitting in her office, explaining everything from the beginning.
She studied the documents carefully.
"First, don't contact your girlfriend's brother alone. Second, don't threaten anyone or attempt to investigate by accessing their accounts. Preserve what you have and let the appropriate professionals handle the rest."
"What if the company believes the documents?"
"Then we provide evidence that challenges them. We also document the unauthorized access and any threats."
She tapped the printed email.
"This message has several inconsistencies. The signature metadata doesn't match the original file, and the attached conversation appears to have been assembled from separate screenshots."
"Can you prove who created it?"
"Not from this alone. But the company's technical team may have records showing where the message originated. Your own email provider may also retain login information."
For the first time, I felt something other than anger.
Hope.
Then my phone rang.
Keisha.
I declined the call.
She called again.
I declined it once more.
Finally, a text appeared.
DARIUS SAYS YOU'RE MAKING THIS WORSE. PLEASE STOP BEFORE YOU RUIN OUR LIVES.
I showed Elaine.
She read it twice.
"Save that."
I did.
Another message followed.
HE CAN FIX THE SITUATION IF YOU JUST AGREE TO MEET HIM.
Elaine looked at me.
"Do you want to meet him?"
"No."
"Good. You don't owe him access to you."
I put the phone away.
But as I stood to leave, my mother called.
Her voice sounded frightened.
"Andre, there's a man outside my house asking questions about you."
I stopped moving.
"What man?"
"He says his name is Darius. He says he wants to help you."
My blood ran cold.
"Mom, don't open the door."
"I haven't."
"Stay inside. I'm coming."
I rushed toward the elevator.
Then my mother whispered something that made me stop.
"Baby, he says he knows where you work, where you live, and something about a woman named Keisha."
I gripped the phone.
"What did he say about her?"
My mother hesitated.
"He said if you don't stop digging, you'll find out why she really came into your life."
The call ended.
I stood frozen in the hallway.
Keisha and I had met at a charity fundraiser three years earlier.
She'd told me it was a coincidence.
May you like
But now I remembered something I'd never thought twice about.
She had known my full name before I introduced myself.
